


Gradual Things

by TheDreadedSneeb



Category: Forgotten Realms
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Gen, I do what I want, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda Fluffy, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Part of the time anyway, ooc Artemis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDreadedSneeb/pseuds/TheDreadedSneeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne stumbles into the world of Forgotten Realms, meets some seriously dangerous people, and can't quite figure out how she is still alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> A fair warning to purists out there: there are several books I haven't read in this series. I both ignore things and keep things from the books I have read whenever it pleases me, and I've had years to develop a strange head-canon which I'm not afraid to wield on unsuspecting readers. That being said, feel free to ask questions if you need clarification, and I do like constructive criticism as long as it doesn't get mean. There is a lot of dialogue in this story, so be prepared. I apologize ahead of time if it gets hard to follow. I enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it. It was inspired by the Tommy Makem song, Gentle Annie, which I was singing nearly the entire time I wrote it.

Because I was wandering around in the woods on my parents’ property, I didn’t notice anything had changed in my surroundings until I tripped over a dead body. That was traumatizing enough without adding the fact that the corpse wasn’t human. It was definitely humanoid, I noticed after I’d finished throwing up. It was not, as I’d originally thought, a child. I was pretty sure it was fully grown, but it was much shorter than an adult human and significantly more orange. It had pointed ears and disproportionately long arms and wore ragged trousers and something that looked like leather armor. The armor had proven ineffectual against whatever or whoever had run this creature through. There was a single puncture wound through it’s chest, presumably through it’s heart, though I couldn’t be sure how anatomically similar this thing was to a human, which appeared to be the cause of death. A look at my nearest surroundings revealed a rusty, broken sword on the ground next to it. None of its possessions seemed to be missing or even rifled through.  
It occurred to me that whatever or whoever had killed this thing might still be lurking about. I looked around, paying attention to my surroundings for the first time since I’d stumbled on the corpse. There was a muffled commotion ahead of me to my right in the direction my parents‘ house was. I couldn’t tell what it was from the sounds nor could I make out anything through the trees. I debated whether I should get closer to see what was going on or try to get away without being noticed and find help. In the end, the need for more information won out over my desire not to get stabbed. I’d probably die soon from something else anyway.  
So I made my way carefully through the trees and undergrowth, looking for the source of the noise. I located it when I found a ravine several yards away. My parents’ house was no where to be seen. Someone, or rather several someones, were fighting at the bottom of the crevice. Having grown up in the twenty-first century, I’d never seen an actual sword fight where people were trying to kill one another outside of cinema. The real thing was much more frightening. I was so terrified that I froze in place, unable to move even to look away. It was partly a good thing because paralysis prevented me from vomiting again. I was pretty sure that the person down there who was busy slaughtering everyone else would notice the woman cowering in the brush if she puked all over the people he was killing. He might even kill me too.  
That thought snapped me out of my stupor enough to try and make my escape. Unfortunately, the guy who was doing all the killing had apparently finished up down below and come to investigate the interloper in his afternoon’s work. I hadn’t gone ten feet before he materialized in front of me. I screamed a little and jumped, but managed not to pee my pants. I counted it as a win. His mouth was moving, but I was too far into a panic attack to actually hear him. I could feel my breath speeding up, and tried to slow it down before the black spots I was seeing completely clouded my vision. It wasn’t working, so I just sat down before I passed out and put my head between my knees. I don’t think the guy expected this reaction. He was still talking, and I was still not listening. He nudged me in the side with his foot, hard. I held up my pointer finger, still focusing on breathing slowly.  
It turned out, he either wasn’t familiar with the common gesture for ‘wait a second’ or the fact that I’d given him that instead of an answer had pissed him off. He yanked me to my feet with a surprising amount of strength for someone his size and proceeded to get all up in my face. I still couldn’t quite hear him, but trying to focus on him was slowing my breathing down and causing my panic attack to subside. He shook me a little and my hearing popped back on line.  
“Answer my question, you stupid cow,” was the first thing I heard.  
“That was uncalled for,” was my reply because I apparently had a death wish, “and I didn’t hear the question in the first place because you scared the bejeezus out of me. If you’d like to repeat it, I’d be happy to answer if I can.”  
He let go of me, and I remained standing to my surprise and relief.  
“Why are you following me?” he demanded.  
“I wasn’t following you. I heard a noise and came to investigate. It’s not my fault you were the one making it. Also, why would I follow you? I‘ve never seen you before in my life, and you‘re clearly dangerous. If I was going to stalk someone, I‘d pick someone benign and helpless, preferably with as few friends and relatives as possible. That way they‘d have no one to sic on me for being a creeper except the police, and most people won‘t go to the police unless things get really scary and even then maybe not. People tend to think they‘re over reacting to things rather than assuming the danger is legitimate.”  
“Shut up.”  
I shut up. Fear made me ramble. Who knew?  
“If you aren’t following me, then what are you doing out here?”  
I knew my answer was probably going to get me killed, “I got lost.”  
He pulled his sword and set the blade lightly on my collarbone. I slapped it away and backed up a few steps. We were both shocked at my reaction, I think, and I blanched when I realized what I’d done and that I was talking again.  
“Dude!” I was saying, “Put that away. You’re gonna take someone‘s eye out with that thing. And I am lost. I stepped on some dead thing over there that is definitely not human unless it‘s like, really good prosthetics, and my parent‘s house isn‘t where it‘s supposed to be. This is either a hallucination, a really convincing prank, or something weird and supernatural went down that I want no part in. And the whole ‘killing people with a sword’ thing? What even is that? Who does that anymore? I mean, other than crazy terrorists in India or whatever.”  
“Did you hit your head?” The question caught me off guard. He looked perplexed and a little irritated, but not as much like he wanted to take my head off.  
“No.” I reached up to feel at my scalp and face for a bump or tender spot. Nothing.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes, and before you ask, any blow hard enough to scramble my brains would leave a mark. There’s nothing wrong with my head. I won’t rule out the possibility that someone has drugged me yet, though. Not that I can think of a person I know who would want to drug me or has access to memory suppressing drugs, but you never know. This whole experience has been surreal and trippy, and I am ready for it to be over, thank you. So if you could direct me to the nearest telephone, computer, or police station, I‘d be very grateful.”  
“What are you talking about? And what’s a police or a telephone or a computer?”  
I rubbed my forehead, “Are you serious? Are you being serious right now? Because if this is a prank, it has passed the point of being comedic and crossed into the realm of total douche-baggery.”  
“Douche-baggery?”  
“Yes, douche-baggery. Dickishness. It’s mean and inconsiderate. Seriously, however much they’re paying you to perpetuate this nonsense, it’s not worth it.”  
“If you aren’t going to make any sense, then stop talking.”  
“Fine. And while I’m being quiet, maybe you can tell me what’s going on.”  
“I was in the middle of a bounty-hunt and noticed you following me.”  
“I was not following you. And bounty-hunting? I thought bounty-hunting was like, catching people who skipped bail or hunting down varmints, not killing people.”  
“They’re goblins, and they’ve been attacking traders and outlying farms for weeks.”  
“And you’re what? Vigilante justice? Why isn’t the government taking care of this crap? Or are you a mercenary the government is hiring to do it? What about the national guard or the sheriff’s department? And why are you killing those things instead of arresting them? Wait, did you just say goblins?”  
“Stop asking questions.”  
“But I need to know.”  
“Okay, here is how this is going to go," he was looking pretty pissed off, "I am taking you back to town where we will find your parents or whoever is in charge of you, and they are going to pay me a lot of money for not killing you or leaving you here to die.”  
“I’m an adult. I’m in charge of myself.”  
“Then you pay me the money.”  
“That’s extortion.”  
“It’s business.”  
“Well, then it’s bad business. You’re basically holding a gun, sorry, a knife to my head and telling me to fork it over. That’s extortion and also illegal.”  
“Do you really think I care?”  
“Considering the fact that you apparently kill people for money, no, but I might as well be clear about the fact that I am aware of what you‘re doing.”  
He started walking, and I followed him. I wasn’t sure what, to him, had signaled the end of our conversation, but I had finally regained control of my wayward mouth, and I kept it shut. Actually, I was fine with silence. I wasn’t one for small talk in general, and I suspected that prolonged conversation between us would result in my speedy death. I tried, unsuccessfully to tell what he was thinking from his face, but it was fixed in a grim expression which told me nothing.  
Town, it turned out was a few miles away. I was not used to exercise of any kind. Wandering around in the outdoors didn’t count since I moved as slowly as I wanted. Thankfully, I had worn hiking boots instead of the rubber boots I’d intended to wear today. Nothing like blisters to make hiking even more of a treat. Also, this guy was not slowing down for anything. For such a short guy, he sure kept up a quick pace. He was less than a head taller than me, and I was barely over five feet tall. I was struggling to keep up the entire way, but I didn’t dare to ask him to slow down. All my earlier vociferousness had leaked out with the copious amounts of sweat I was producing.  
The city had walls around it. Honest to goodness walls. They were made of stone, and there were men patrolling them. Men in armor. This was a lot of work to put into a prank. Maybe too much. It might not be a prank after all. Still, it could be set up to happen near some larping thing. Mr. Bounty-hunter hailed the guards, and they let us through. I looked around the streets. The buildings were old-fashioned, and everyone else was dressed just like my angry escort, except with more color. There were carts and horses and dogs running through the street. It looked like a renaissance fair except there were fewer drunk people and a lot more poor people. And of course, there wasn’t an ATM or port-a-potty anywhere. It smelled like people just used the street like a port-a-potty. This was why no one actually wanted to live in medieval times. Hygiene sucked.  
We arrived at the town square, and my companion turned to me. One look at my face must have told him that this wasn’t familiar to me.  
“You don’t live here,” he stated.  
“No, I’ve never seen this place before. Where are we?”  
“Nyth.”  
“Nyth?”  
“In Thesk.”  
“Thesk?”  
“Are you kidding?” he muttered.  
“Are you? You just said we were in a city called Nyth in Thesk, and you’re asking if I’m the one kidding?”  
“Well, where are you from?”  
“Minnesota.”  
“Where’s Minnesota?”  
“The United States.”  
“What?”  
“Of America.”  
“Never heard of it.”  
“How is that even possible?” I was flabbergasted at this point.  
“Where is that on Faerun?”  
“It’s on planet Earth. What’s Faerun? Where’s Faerun?”  
“This is Faerun. It’s a continent on Toril.”  
“Toril is a planet? I’m on a different planet? Is this a joke?”  
“No!”  
“And you’ve never heard of Earth?”  
“No.”  
Well, shit.  
“Please tell me you have toilets here," I pleaded, "And toilet paper. I can live without the internet or cell phones or showers or you know, proper medical care, but I cannot live without toilet paper. Chamber pots are not going to happen, and I am not going in the woods or the streets or whatever other unsanitary place people went in the dark ages.” All the truly important things in life were flooding my mind, apparently.  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
“I’m talking about indoor plumbing. How do you keep human waste from filling the streets and houses?”  
He grabbed my arm and dragged me away down another street. We didn’t stop until we had entered an inn, and I resisted when he tried to bring me upstairs. Irritated, he turned and glared at me.  
“Bro, I am not going up there with you. I don’t know anything about you except that you kill people for money and call it bounty-hunting, and that’s not exactly a shining endorsement of your character.”  
“If I was going to kill you or rape you, I’d have done it when I found you in the woods where no one would hear you scream.”  
“Hey, I don't know. Maybe you get off on the possibility of getting caught. I’m not going up there. That would just be stupid.”  
“We need to talk somewhere private.”  
“We can talk, but I’m not going to follow a strange man into his room. Why can’t we talk out there?” I pointed to the common room. He grumbled but complied. We sat at the corner table and a young woman came to our table to see if we wanted food. I doubted they took American money, so I shook my head. My companion ordered something. I had stopped paying attention and started looking around at the room, so I had no idea what he was getting. The room was surprisingly big. The ceiling was vaulted and had various decorations perched in the rafters. There were warm reds and oranges in the upholstered chairs and the wallpaper. I wasn’t sure what to call the look they were going for, but it looked put together. There were round tables of various sizes scattered around the room and rectangular ones at the edges, but not enough of them to make it look like a restaurant. A few comfy-looking chairs sat in front of the unlit fireplace.  
“So,” the guy said, “start talking.”  
“That’s very non-specific. Also, will you please tell me your name?”  
“Artemis Entreri.”  
“And how would you like me to address you?”  
“You may call me either Artemis or Entreri.”  
“Okay, Artemis then. My name is Anne. What do you want to know?”  
“Where did you come from, and how did you get here?”  
“I told you, I’m from Minnesota, and I don’t know how I got here. I was walking around in the woods by my parents’ house, and I tripped over that dead thing. I don’t know when I stopped being there and started being here. The flora and fauna are similar, and except for the ravines and stuff, it looks pretty much the same.”  
“It was a goblin.”  
“Seriously?”  
“You’ve never seen a goblin before?”  
“No, of course not.”  
“But you’ve heard of them?”  
“In stories, like fictional goblins, but not real ones.”  
“Not ever? Goblins are everywhere.”  
“Not on Earth. They don’t exist there. They never have, at least not that we‘ve found evidence of.”  
“What about elves, dwarves, orcs?”  
“No, only humans. There’s a medical condition called dwarfism. Genetically they’re still human though.”  
“Only humans.”  
“Yeah.”  
“And magic?”  
“Nope. I’m pretty sure there used to be, like thousands of years ago, but not anymore. I mean, there are people who call themselves magicians, but it’s all smoke and mirrors and sleight of hand. I suppose you could call ESP magic or like mediums and voodoo, but that shit is creepy and also usually fake. Common opinion is that any magic people may have once done was really just unexplained scientific phenomena. Most of the things people claimed they did with magic, we can do with science and technology now, and the rest are just considered exaggerations or superstition or grasping for an explanation for something they couldn’t explain, like blaming things on the gods.”  
“What? You don’t have gods there either?”  
“There are a lot of different religions people follow, each with different gods, and there are people who don’t believe gods exist. I believe there’s only one god.”  
“What is science?”  
“Science is trying to explain the world and how it works through observation and experimentation.”  
“That tells me nothing.”  
“Well, it’s a broad question. What do you want to know about? Physics, chemistry, biology, meteorology, psychology, sociology, geology?”  
“Is that all science?”  
“Yes, and it’s not even all the types of science there are.”  
“Explain some of it.”  
“Physics is the study of physical systems and energy and how they behave and interact. Biology is the study of life forms. Meteorology is the study of weather. Psychology is the study of the human mind and how it works.”  
“You said dwarves on your planet are genetically human. What does that mean?”  
“So, all living things are made of tiny parts called cells, and inside each cell is something called Chromosomes. Chromosome pairs have all of the information your body uses to tell how to make itself in the form of genes. They hold information in the form of DNA which determines everything from the color of your hair and eyes to whether or not you are vulnerable to certain sicknesses. There are special cells for reproduction which have half as many chromosomes. When people have sex, the cells combine, the chromosomes pair up and together determine how the new person will look. A person‘s genetic make-up is half from their mother and half from their father. Each animal and plant has a different number of chromosome pairs in their cells. Humans have 23 pairs. Someone with dwarfism has human genes. They're human, just like their parents.”  
“How in the world do you know that?”  
“Smarter people than me have found ways to study DNA and taught the rest of us about it.”  
“What happens if different animals mate?”  
“Sometimes they produce viable offspring, like a donkey and a horse produce a mule, but mules are sterile; they can’t reproduce. The more the number of chromosome pairs they have differs and the more different their genetic make-up, the more unlikely it is for different species be able to cross-breed.”  
“Different races cross-breed here.”  
“Like humans and dwarves?”  
“Sure, humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, ogres, and they can all have children which can reproduce as well.”  
“Maybe it’s like cross-breeding dogs. You know, they’re all canis familiaris, but different subspecies, so you end up with things like labradoodles. Maybe all the different races here are just different subspecies of homo sapiens or humans are a subspecies of something else. Or it could be like breeding lions and tigers. Panthera Leo and Panthera Tigris. Not the same species, but the same genus, and their female offspring can reproduce I think. Sometimes anyway. The guys are sterile, though. Are any of the hybrid... peoples... sterile?”  
“I get the cross-breeding dogs thing, but none of the rest of that meant anything to me, and don’t try to explain. You sound like a crazy person, and it’s giving me a headache.”  
“Hey, it was a valid question. And I would say I’m not crazy, but recent events or delusions or whatever is going on have made me seriously doubt my sanity, so until further notice, I‘m not going to try and refute that.”  
“Tell me about the place where you live.”  
“The city, the state, or the country?”  
“I don’t care. All three.”  
“Do you have something I can draw on? This would be easier with visual aides.”  
“You know what? Never mind. We can do this later.”  
His food and drink arrived, and I sat back and looked around while he ate. More people had arrived, presumably for a noontime meal, and I watched them interact curiously. The nearest group was five men, all armed and armored. I guessed they may also have been bounty-hunting. Although I couldn’t distinguish their words, I could tell from their body language that they were well-acquainted and competitive with one another. It sounded like they were bragging and engaging in typical male posturing and machismo. Everything was a giant pissing contest for men. Their table manners were atrocious.  
“You should stop staring at them,” Artemis said.  
I jumped and turned back to him, “Sorry, it’s hard to look away from the train wreck that is their table manners, and good grief, have they never heard of inside voices?”  
“They’re trying to impress people.”  
“By being loud and annoying and telling outrageous lies in an attempt to one-up each other? They sound like idiots and not even charming idiots. Some people can pull off stupidity with a certain amount of grace. They sound like the kind of idiots you want to punch in the face every time they open their mouths.”  
“I never said they were succeeding.”  
“Fair point. They certainly seem to think they are.”  
“If you stare at them, they’ll think you think so too.”  
“Then thank you for stopping me.”  
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it so they wouldn’t come over here. They annoy me enough from a distance.”  
“I don’t care why you did it. I’m just grateful that you did.”  
“Are you hungry?” he asked suddenly, “here, eat.” he shoved the rest of his food toward me.  
“I don’t have any money to pay you back.”  
“I’m not going to eat it anyway.”  
I shrugged and started eating. No point in being too proud to take castoffs. I’d rather have food in my stomach.  
“Your parents were wealthy,” Artemis said. It wasn’t a question.  
“Not really. I have a lot of siblings, so all the money kind of went towards keeping us fed and clothed.”  
“But you clearly got an education.”  
“Well, yeah, public school.”  
“Public school?”  
“Yeah, the government provides free education since, by law, all children must attend school of some sort.”  
“There’s a law about that?” He looked skeptical.  
“Yeah, they have certain things you have to learn to be considered properly educated, and whatever schooling you get has to fulfill the requirements. Some people pay to send their kids to private schools. Some people teach their kids at home. But the government can‘t require you to educate your kid and then make you pay for it, so they provide a free education for everyone which you can opt out of as long as you get them an alternative education that meets the standards.”  
“Why would the government require you to go to school?”  
“So you can get a job and be a productive member of society.”  
“You have to be educated to get a job?”  
“Yeah, how are you going to know what’s in a contract or how to read the news and instructions and stuff if you can‘t read and write? Or keep track of your finances if you can‘t do math? How would society advance if no one knew anything? It‘d be like herding cats, only belligerent, disease-ridden cats with no common understanding of the world in general.”  
“I think you’re mixing metaphors.”  
“Well, I’m mixing something, that’s for sure.”  
“So you can read, write, and cypher, and you know a lot of… stuff that may or may not apply to this world as well as your own. Do you have a trade?”  
“No, I work in a factory, but I don’t plan to make a career out of it. I plan to go to school again for engineering.”  
“What’s a factory?”  
“A place where one manufactures products for selling.”  
“What kind of products?”  
“All kinds of products. It depends on what the company wants to manufacture. Maybe they make shoes or clothes, books, furniture, farming implements. If it can be sold, someone manufactures it, and if the industry is big enough, it’s done at a factory. Even food is processed at a factory. Unless it‘s sold at like, a farmer‘s market. And of course, there are specialty items and hand-crafts and stuff that aren‘t mass-produced which aren‘t made by a manufacturer.”  
“How did you get the job?”  
“I work for my uncle.”  
“Is it difficult work?”  
“No, it’s pretty easy. As long as you memorize the process, you can totally space out while you do it and just work on autopilot. As long as you do everything in the same order every time and pay just enough attention not to mess things up, you just cruise through.”  
“But you don‘t want to work there forever?”  
“Ideally, I’d like to get married and have children, stay home and raise them. I plan to go to school for engineering as a back up plan. I just need to make some money and build a financial buffer so I can work part-time and go to school without getting an ulcer worrying about paying the bills.”  
We lapsed into silence again. He was considering me with a blank look on his face. I stared back and paid attention to his appearance for the first time. I’d noticed he was short earlier, but not much else. He was very handsome, with good bone structure and a square jaw. It looked like he either hadn’t shaved or had a five-o-clock shadow to go with his goatee. Short black hair, it was parted on one side. His eyes were sharp and gray, and his skin tone was darker than mine, maybe middle-eastern, and had a grayish caste to it. I couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light or if he was actually gray. I almost asked, but decided to wait. Usually, such information came to light with a little patience and no questions required.  
“For someone who talks a lot, you certainly have a gift for extended silence,” he observed.  
“I like silence, more time for thinking. And I only talk a lot when I have something to say.”  
“Most people who talk a lot can’t stand silence.”  
“You think I‘m lying.”  
He said nothing.  
“I know many people who can’t abide silence. The sister I live with is one of them. I’m not.”  
We didn’t talk while I finished eating. I could tell he was waiting to see if I’d crack, and I retaliated by doing what I did best, tuning out. I looked around again, examining each occupied table.  
I skimmed over the five guys burgers and fries, and settled on the next group. This one was obviously a couple and their children. They looked to be middle-class, but I had no real frame of reference for comparison. The mother was feeding her baby girl mashed up potatoes and overcooked carrots and trying to keep her twin sons from feeding the food they didn’t want to their dog. The father was talking to the waitress about something. Their oldest, a girl of about six or seven was doing her best to help her mother in between forcing herself to eat the meal even though she clearly didn’t like it. I silently applauded her fortitude. I certainly wouldn’t have done as well at her age.  
Two old men and their equally old wives sat together in the sunlight coming through the glassless window. I guessed they were here for food but not lodging. It was kind of sweet to see old people out on a date in the middle of the day even in this weird time period. I wondered if they were just good friends or if some of them were related.  
A man in rough traveling clothes was eating a hasty meal at the bar. He appeared to be alternating between stuffing his face and harassing the wait-staff. I hoped that someone spit in his food. Something had him in a rush, but not in danger. He didn’t look over his shoulder or around the room even once. I tried to make out a weapon, but either it was small and concealed, or he was a lefty. I watched his hands to see which. He was a lefty. Unusual. I tried to remember if Artemis was left or right-handed, but came up blank. I’d have to pay more attention in the future.  
Across the room, two women and a man sat at one of the round tables. The man and one of the women were lightly armored and carried an assortment of weapons, but the other woman wore robes and had no visible armament. Closer inspection revealed that all three were actually elves. I guessed that the robed elf was a magic-user, and wondered if the color of her robes signified anything about the type of magic she did. Again, I nearly asked, but changed my mind. Answers came to those who waited, watched, and listened.


	2. Part 2

It was more than two weeks since I’d stumbled into this world, and I was inexplicably still traveling with Artemis. The only semi-viable explanation I could conjure for this was that unlike the vast majority of the people he met, he didn’t dislike me. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he liked me or that I wasn’t sometimes annoying, but he had no antipathy toward me, and I wasn’t an idiot. Apparently that was good enough for him. It was a little sad that he was that lonely, but I wasn’t complaining. No way would I have survived this long without him. I also had no idea how long this arrangement was going to last. It was clear that this was a very unequal partnership. He fed me, clothed me, kept me safe, provided shelter, and I did nothing except tag along and not piss him off. I helped in whatever small ways I could, helping set up and collecting fire wood when we stopped for camp, trying to learn to cook without modern equipment, and not getting in his way as much as possible. So far, he hadn’t said anything about it, but I felt like a leech, and it bothered me that I couldn’t contribute more. The only thing I really had going for me was a collection of knowledge that had almost nothing to do with this world.  
Artemis had spent hours trying to explain to me how a barter system worked in practice and how to avoid being swindled. I knew in theory how such a system should work, but I wasn’t in the habit of trying to talk anyone into or out of anything. It felt like stealing to try and convince someone to take less money for something than what they asked, even if Artemis said they were going to start the price exorbitantly high. The nature of my problem seemed to stymie him. Also, I had no way of knowing what the relative values of anything was. Eventually, he gave up and forbade me from purchasing anything. I was fine with that since I wasn’t comfortable spending his money anyway.  
Most recently, he’d found out I didn’t know how to use any sort of weapon that existed on this world, and despite a lot of protest on my part, had decided to try and teach me some of the basics. I was pretty sure I couldn’t hurt anyone even if they were trying to hurt me, but he insisted, and I couldn‘t really say no. The first lesson had been a disaster. We were supposed to start with hand-fighting, but while I could do the blocks and strikes on my own, I flinched and cowered whenever he threw a punch for me to block, even a slow one. I could tell he was frustrated at my inability to translate the moves into practice. I just said I wasn’t going to unlearn twenty years of having non-violence ground into me overnight, that I felt bad if I even raised my voice at people, let alone physically assaulting them, and that I couldn‘t control the fact that my fight or flight response to danger favored the flight side of things. When I couldn’t bring myself to take a swing at him for him to demonstrate a block, he called it quits for the day. I suspected he was going to try a harsher method of teaching me to fight which involved hurting me until I responded violently next time. I hoped it didn’t get too ugly. Maybe I could talk him out of it, get him to realize that my brain was far and away my best weapon, but I wasn’t very persuasive in general, and I doubted I’d have much success.  
We spent most of the day walking south. I knew from the path the sun took. Walking in silence was fine and good and all, but I was bored out of my freaking mind. Nature was pretty, but not enough was going on to occupy my twenty-first century brain. I had nothing to say, nor did I want to try and talk while I walked since I was having a hard enough time keeping up. Artemis had slowed his brisk pace so that I could keep up, but still. My mind alternated between racing in all directions at once and begging me for stimulation. I’d read all of the writing on everything in my wallet so many times I could recite it all from memory. I’d actually begun counting how many of each type of tree we passed and making up math problems with the numbers I came up with. I was, frankly, getting twitchy and irritable. Artemis had noticed my inability to sit still and my incessant humming, but had yet to comment. I had so far managed to keep myself from singing out loud like I normally would. I was pretty sure that would get on his nerves.  
He finally asked when we stopped at midday to rest and eat.  
“What’s the problem? You‘ve been jumpy lately.”   
“Sorry. I’m just so bored. My body is occupied, but my brain has nothing to do. I need something to do or read or solve or I’m gonna go nuts.”  
“Bored?”  
“I’m not being mentally stimulated. I usually have books or the internet or television or craft projects to do. I’ve never gone this long without reading something before, and it’s driving me crazy. I’m having psychosomatic symptoms of my boredom in the form of cold sweat and feeling like I’m about to crawl out of my fucking skin.”  
“What’s a psychosomatic symptom?”  
“Psychosomatic symptoms are physical responses to mental stressors. Like having an upset stomach when you feel guilty, or hair going gray and falling out when you’re under a lot of pressure.”  
“So you’d settle down if you had something to do?”  
“I’d settle down if my brain had something to do.”  
“I’ll get a book or something at the next town. Better?”  
“Will it be written in English? Or is the written language different here?”  
“It’ll be in common.”  
“Is the language we’re speaking the common language?”  
“Yes.”  
“And do you guys use roman letters?”  
“What?”  
“You know… the roman alphabet.” I grabbed a stick and started writing letters in the dirt.  
“Yes. Those are the letters it will have.”  
“Ok, good. I’d hate to finally have a book and be unable to read it. That would be torture.”  
“Do you know any other languages?” he asked.  
“I know a tiny bit of Spanish, but they didn’t really teach us foreign languages in school. Do you?”  
“I know a few.”  
“Cool, will you teach them to me?”  
“I suppose. You’ll have to settle down though.”  
“I’m pretty sure learning a new language will keep my brain plenty busy.” I had latched onto the idea and hoped he wouldn’t change his mind on me or get frustrated like he had with the fighting the other day.  
“Eat first,” he said, “We can start learning goblin on the road.”  
“Is it a hard language to learn?”  
“Not particularly.”  
I made myself settle back and stop asking questions.  
“If we’re doing this language thing, you’re going to really try to learn to fight. I’m not doing one without the other.”  
“Fine,” I agreed. My desire to learn something new outweighed my desire to have nothing to do with violence of any kind. I didn’t think I’d be much good at fighting anyway. I was in terrible shape and pretty uncoordinated, but as long as he could see I was trying, hopefully he’d keep teaching me languages even if I didn‘t improve much at fighting.  
He pulled dried meat and fruit from his pack, and I took out some bread from mine. It was taking me a while to get used to the food here. Food on Earth was much more flavorful and the ingredients more processed. I’d gotten sick the first few times I ate anything here, but my stomach was adjusting. I had to make myself not think of the likely extremely unsanitary food preparation process that went into making anything I ate here. Nothing like dying of the screaming shits because some idiot thought it was a good idea to let meat sit out in the sun and ‘season’ before preparing it. I also didn’t think about the fact that most of the people on this planet just drank water straight from nature. No filters, no nothing. Artemis gave me weird looks every time I boiled water before drinking it, but after I launched into an explanation of microorganisms, bacteria, protists, dying of dysentery, and the various other diseases caused by drinking contaminated water, he no longer said anything about it.   
I was also adjusting to wearing the clothes he’d found for me. He said the ones I was wearing drew a lot of attention because they were so strange. So he’d traded my blue jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie for two sets of trousers which were definitely tailored for a man not a woman, two shirts which were also made for a man and barely fit over my breasts, a tunic which was too big, and a cloak. Apparently, my clothes were strange enough and well made enough to draw a good price. The new clothes didn’t sit quite right and itched a little. I kept my belt, under things, and hiking boots. I had no idea what I was going to do when I got my period. I’d have to ask soon, just to be safe, but that promised to be a really uncomfortable conversation, and I was procrastinating. At any rate, I no longer stood out like a sore thumb when we passed through towns, except for my accent, manner of speech, and behavior. Artemis said I acted like some kind of prissy, high-born marshmallow and needed to toughen up. Not in those exact words, obviously, but that was what he meant. It was strange for me because I was on the more butch end of feminine and kind of rough-edged and blunt back home. I wasn’t considered mean, by any stretch of the imagination, but I was too direct and definitely not prissy.  
When I told Artemis this, he looked at me like I’d grown a second head and told me the only people he’d met with more delicate sensibilities than my own were nobles, that my only saving grace was an abundance of brains and practicality, and if I hadn’t demonstrated that I had both on multiple occasions, he’d never have put up with me this long. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I’d said nothing. I did blush though. He didn’t comment on that, but I felt like it probably proved his point.


	3. Part 3

No one we talked to could tell me how I might get home. None of them had even heard of Earth, much less had any idea how to send me back. Artemis and I had been on the road for nearly five months, and I was starting to lose hope of ever seeing my family again. I actually spent a good deal of time crying about it, but I just pulled my hood up to hide it from Artemis, and he didn’t say anything even though I knew he knew. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t care or didn’t know how to deal with it. Either way, as long as it didn’t cause problems, he was apparently content to let it be.  
Winter had set in about a month ago, and I was beginning to feel my Christmas time urges kicking in. I’d even found a red ribbon to tie in my hair. I was cold all of the time, but I also couldn’t keep myself from singing Christmas carols. I’d lost my battle with restraint somewhere in the middle of the third month on the road, and as long as I didn’t sing one song too many times in a row, Artemis was surprisingly okay with my constant need to sing. I had a passable voice, nothing spectacular, and a natural grasp of pitch, and I’d done choir and voice lessons in school. So I knew a lot of songs and my high soprano voice didn’t sound like complete garbage. I’d even heard him humming some of my favorite songs under his breath sometimes though I didn’t comment. Once, he even asked me about the lyrics to one of them.  
We had stopped at an inn, and Artemis had gone out to buy something, when the proprietor asked me if I’d mind singing for his guests. He said he had no entertainment that day, and he’d pay me for it. I saw an opportunity to contribute to Artemis’ money supply. I asked the man what kind of songs I’d be expected to sing and how many. He said he’d heard me singing Yule songs in my room on his way past to show someone else a room, and if I sang a few of them, that‘d be perfect. I was a little nervous, but I agreed. I didn’t think Artemis would mind, but it would be better to do this when he wasn’t here just in case.  
There was a little floor stage set up for bards and musicians to perform, and I felt a little silly standing on it with no instrument or microphone or even a pitch pipe. Most of the carols I knew weren’t secular, but I figured that if I peppered them in with the non-religious ones, my audience might not mind. Then I remembered that they weren’t so stuck on being politically correct, and as long as I didn’t suck, they probably wouldn’t care. I drew on all of my theater and choir experience and made myself stand up straight and perform, unrehearsed, like I was happy to be there. It actually went fine. I managed not to sound like airy crap, and my audience didn’t boo or throw things. Still, it wasn’t something I wanted to do on a regular basis. I made sure the last song I sang was a drinking song. The innkeeper seemed pleased enough and paid me, saying that if the bard didn’t show up the next day, I could do it again. I thanked him but made no promises. Artemis didn’t like to stay in any one place for long. We’d probably leave before the sun was all the way up.  
Unsurprisingly, Artemis was in our room when I got back. I handed him the money without explanation. He obviously knew how I’d earned it. I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t, so I assumed either it didn‘t bother him or he couldn‘t think of a logical reason for me not to do it. We settled in to sleep, back to back as always. Neither of us moved much in our sleep, so we just got one room and shared a bed. I’d been freaked out by the idea at first, but Artemis had never touched me. So I got over it, and we slept next to one another. Closer now to keep warm, our backs touching. We even slept together on the road to keep warm, and to keep me safer.  
Although language lessons continued, Artemis had given up on trying to teach me to fight once I had the most basic concepts down. He was satisfied as long as I practiced enough to maintain what I'd learned. I kept a knife on my belt and one in my boot, but no other weapons. It wasn’t that I didn’t try. I did. I just really and truly sucked. I couldn’t string the moves together, and I thought too hard about things and screwed up my reaction time. Artemis was as relieved to be done with it as I was. He just told me to stick close, stay out of his way, and rely on him to protect me. I didn’t argue. I’d seen him fight on the road more than once. It was simultaneously breathtaking and terrifying. I’d be very surprised if there were many people better at it than him. If I had to have someone defend me from the various monsters and mad men, Artemis Entreri wasn’t a bad choice. It was just a question of how long he would continue to do so.  
We did leave before the sun was up. I had an inkling that Artemis was a little upset with my money-making endeavor last night and wanted to get away from the inn before the other people were up and about. He hadn’t said anything though, and I wasn’t about to bring it up. I also wasn’t sure what part of it could possibly be upsetting to him. Maybe I’d somehow implied that he was unable to provide for me? Why would that bother him though? Maybe I’d drawn too much attention to myself? That sounded more plausible. Artemis liked to fly under the radar as much as possible. Singing in public, even if I wasn’t that great, wasn’t exactly subtle. I’d have to trade on a different skill then. Maybe writing. I had read about people being paid to write letters for the illiterate. All I’d need was an hour or so of free time, paper, and a writing instrument. If we ever settled down, I could get a job doing clerical work. Surely, that wouldn’t bother him. I turned the idea over in my head as we rode in silence.  
When the snow started, Artemis had produced a magical horse he called a nightmare. Learning to ride it had been a nightmare on its own. Artemis had been surprised when I told him I could count on one hand the number of times I’d ridden a horse in my life. This one was huge and vicious, and I was sure I was going to die beneath its fiery hooves one of these days. I was more used to riding now, but I still hated the horse. A feeling, I was sure, the horse returned in full measure. Usually, I rode behind Artemis, but sometimes he made me ride in front and practice steering. Today, I rode behind, clinging to his waist, trying to focus on anything other than the muscles I could feel under my hands.  
Maybe it was a result of our current living arrangements, with him providing for and protecting me, or maybe it was because I genuinely liked him, but I’d found myself more and more attracted to Artemis lately. I had no intention of acting on it. It was unlikely he’d reciprocate, and even if he did, he didn’t trust women, especially the ones he slept with. Also, he occasionally picked up women when we stopped in towns, and I was honestly a little afraid that he’d continue to do so even if we were together. We never talked about emotions or relationships or anything touchy-feely, and if we got together and broke up, I‘d lose my friend and protector. Being on my own in this place scared me.  
“You’re quiet today,” he observed out of the blue.  
“Just thinking is all.”  
“You usually sing when you’re thinking.”  
“Yes, but this is serious thinking.”  
“Ah. And serious thinking requires silence.”  
“Focus. It requires focus. I can’t sing and focus completely on my serious thoughts. Singing requires at least a little attention. Ergo, silence.”  
He patted my leg briefly and fell silent. I leaned my head against his back and sighed. I missed my family. I hoped that this was one of those Narnia things where time flowed here but not on Earth. They’d be devastated if I went missing. Especially for this long. We’d lost enough members to death. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting them through the pain of losing another. Also, the holidays were coming up, and I wanted to see them and be with them. I missed them all the time, but holidays were the worst. Thanksgiving had come and gone, and now Christmas was almost here. I wanted some piece of home. Something to make me feel less alone.  
I must have fallen asleep, because I jolted awake when Blackfire came to an abrupt halt. It was nearly noon, judging by the sun’s position, and there were other people on horseback on the road ahead. Artemis was stiff-backed, muscles tense, and I immediately went on alert. Whoever this was, they were a threat. I released him and slipped my hand to my belt, finding my knife. If these people made Artemis uneasy, it was unlikely I’d be able to defend myself from anything they wanted to do to me, but I could at least try if I couldn’t get away. The other riders dismounted, and Artemis followed suit, but he kept me mounted with a hand on my knee. I took hold of the reigns in one hand, my other hidden by my cloak.  
“Artemis,” a drow in a fancy hat said, “well met, old friend.”  
Artemis ignored him.  
“Hello, Artemis Entreri,” the pretty elf lady with strange hair said. Something about her set me a little on edge, but I couldn‘t place what.  
“You have the advantage,” he replied, “I have never heard of you.”  
“I am Dahlia Sin’felle.”  
“Indeed. And is this who I think it is?” he turned to the third, a guy in a green cloak that covered his face.  
“You know me,” the stranger replied, shoving back his hood.  
“Do’urden. Is that vicious critter of yours running around as well?”  
The purple-eyed drow smirked but didn’t answer.  
“And who is this?” hat guy asked. Again, Artemis ignored him. I wondered what his beef with the stranger was. At any rate, I was content to let Artemis do the talking until I decided what to think of these people.  
“Entreri? Who is she?” the one called Do’urden asked.  
“A friend. I’m taking her home to her family,” he said. Technically, that was the goal even if we weren’t having any luck in attaining it.  
“What’s your name, miss?” Do’urden asked. I looked at Artemis, who nodded once.  
“My name is Anne. And yours, sir?” I went with politeness. Good manners rarely offended anyone.  
“I am Drizzt Do’urden. Dahlia has introduced herself, and this one is Jarlaxle D’aerthe.”  
Jarlaxle bowed and swept his hat off, flinging his cape out dramatically. His outfit was an eyesore and clearly designed to put people off their guard.  
“Well met, my lady,” he said, “one does not look to see such beauty as your own upon the road.” I resisted the urge to laugh, keeping a neutral yet pleasant expression on my face.  
“You’re very kind, sir.” That seemed like a benign enough way to accept his flattery.  
“Kind…” he started.  
“Shut up, Jarlaxle,” Artemis cut him off, “and stop talking to her. She doesn‘t want to hear the river of shit that is constantly running out your mouth.” Whoa, he must really hate this Jarlaxle guy.  
“My friend…”  
“I am not your friend. You are not my friend. I have no desire to speak to you, so shut up.”  
Drizzt broke in before things could escalate, “Where are you headed?”  
“East.” It was a nice, succinct answer, and from it, I could tell just how much Artemis wanted to be away from these people.  
“We are headed east as well,” Dahlia said, swinging her long braid over one shoulder, “Perhaps we should go together. There is safety in numbers.”  
Jarlaxle looked delighted, Artemis pissed, and Drizzt vacillated between amused and reluctant. I certainly wasn’t going to put in my two cents worth. I kept my face politely pleasant and unthreatening. I was surprised when I heard Artemis grumble his acquiescence. He was willing, it seemed to tolerate their company for a while. Turning back, he shoved me forward in the saddle and swung up behind me. His hands dug in a little more than usual at my waist. Luckily, I still had a layer of fat there that wouldn’t go away and it didn’t hurt much. It did make me a little self-conscious though. I ignored the feeling and nudged Blackfire into a trot. The others also mounted and followed. The tension in the air made my skin crawl, and I didn’t sing all the rest of the day. Drizzt’s ‘vicious critter’ didn’t turn up, and I wondered what exactly it was going to be.  
We set camp a short distance from the road. I let the others speak, but said nothing as I gathered wood and got the food warming. They seemed content to leave me out of the conversation, and I just listened in instead. Jarlaxle alternately tried to talk with Artemis and flirted casually with Dahlia, who liked the attention even if she wasn’t taking him seriously. Drizzt carried on politely curious conversation with Artemis, and Dhalia chipped in occasionally. I could tell Artemis was keeping an eye on me, but he made no effort to draw me into the talking, so I took that as an indication that he didn‘t want me to interact much with these people. I decided that for the time being, I’d just go for polite and non-threatening whenever I had to talk and keep my mouth shut otherwise. It might be best if these people thought I didn’t have a whole lot going on upstairs. After all, idiots were neither interesting nor threatening.


	4. Part 4

Traveling with Drizzt, Jarlaxle, and Dahlia ended up lasting a lot longer than I thought it would. Given the nature of our meeting, I had expected Artemis to find the first plausible excuse to split ways and jump on it. He hadn’t. In fact, he seemed to be patching up his relationship with Jarlaxle and trying to make friends with the other two. I had picked up on a bit of his past with Drizzt, and so wasn’t surprised that their relationship vacillated between cautious friendship and mutual antagonism. It was kind of funny. Dahlia, however, was just alarming. She was clearly sleeping with Drizzt. I had no doubt about that, but she and Artemis spent a lot of time circling one another.  
While I could see the attraction, they had a lot in common and she was hot, I couldn’t understand how her obvious psychological issues didn’t raise any red flags. He also wasn’t worried about the fact that she announced on a regular basis that she killed any man who tried to dump her. I don't know if she thought it made her look cool or tough or if it was a girl power thing or what, but it really only succeeded in making her look and sound like a crazy, petty, psychotic bitch. Part of my problem with her was the fact that she treated me like crap. I could have forgiven her for treating me like I was dumb, I was trying pretty hard to make them think I was. Artemis understood my need to have some kind of hidden advantage in my relationship with these three and didn’t call me on it. I felt the need to have an ace in the hole. All three of our new companions were dangerous, not just physically, but on a mental level as well. Good at fighting and clever. The only way I had any possibility of leveling the playing field if things went south was to have the element of surprise on my side. As long as they thought I was stupid, I had an ace to play.  
So far, I thought I was doing a good job fooling them. They used a lot of short words and over-explained things, and they gave me the most condescending looks sometimes. Drizzt at least didn’t do it on purpose. It was actually very hard to make myself listen to them. I wasn’t used to having to listen all the way through to the end of an explanation because I usually understood the whole thing half way through and could make it clear to whoever was talking and advance the conversation accordingly. In order to maintain the illusion of stupidity and being as naïve as possible, I not only had to sit through the whole thing, but I also had to make it seem like I was paying attention and not understanding it all. I asked a lot of stupid questions. Like a lot, a lot. Sometimes I amused myself by seeing how long I could keep one of them talking over and over the same thing, trying to dumb it down more and more and in different ways to get me to understand. But usually, by the end of the day, all I wanted to do was claw my hair out and scream in frustration.  
We flitted from town to town, heading east and vaguely north, the others taking jobs here and there. On occasion, I was forced to accompany them, but most of the time I waited for them at inns while they worked, and did some sight-seeing and freelance writing. I stowed the money I made in my pack and didn’t mention it to Artemis. If he knew, he didn't comment. Sometimes we asked around about getting me back home, but less and less often the more we stuck with our three new companions. I kept a few books in my pack, but in order to keep it from becoming too heavy, I had to sell the old ones and buy new ones regularly. It was nice to be able to read again. For the time being, Artemis and I still shared a room, but I knew that pretty soon he’d start having sex with Dahlia, and I’d have to sleep elsewhere. As much as I wanted to believe his good sense would win out, I was nothing if not a realist. Still, there was a chance. Past precedent said that he’d make the logical decision. There was only so long a man would ignore his penis though, and Artemis had to be reaching the end of his rope.  
I considered the fact that him spending so much time with Dahlia didn’t bode well for me. I could admit that part of my problem with her was jealousy, but that didn’t mean the other problems weren’t worth consideration. Her problem with me was my biggest problem. She was not subtle about the fact that she loathed me. I suspected she thought I might be the reason Artemis hadn’t put the moves on her yet, which was absurd, but then we did share a room and a horse. I could kind of see where she was coming from. The complete lack of sexual anything between Artemis and me should have told her otherwise by now, but whatever. At any rate, she had so far limited herself to glares and other varieties of dirty looks in the threats department. Artemis was unlikely to act on such minor things if I ever actually complained to him about it, so I wasn‘t going to waste my breath and make myself look like a whiny tattle-tale.  
Today, I was with them on a job, doing my best to stay out of the way, and grimacing at the insane and idiotic decisions they made with alarming frequency. It was either blind luck or sheer force of will that any of them were alive if this was their usual modus operandi. I suspected their plan had gone awry somewhere along the line since none of the other times I’d been along had been like this. So far, both Drizzt and Dahlia were injured, and we appeared to be reacting to circumstance rather than acting on opportunity.  
We were in the catacombs under some lord’s keep, regrouping and trying to formulate a plan for getting out without being caught. He had some kind of anti-magic thing in his walls keeping us from using magic to get in or out, presumably an anti-theft device of some sort, which had not been included in the information about the job. We couldn’t fight our way out without drawing too much negative attention, and there were too many guards anyway. Worse, we’d had to barricade ourselves in, and his men were in the process of forcing their way through. No other doors or windows led in or out.  
Currently, Artemis was arguing with Jarlaxle about what to do, Dahlia was resting her injured leg and egging them on because, you know, she's apparently four years old, and Drizzt was pacing next to Guenhwyvar. I was walking around the room looking for inspiration. Someone had been using the place as a storage area. There were beds, desks, chairs, dressers, bookshelves, all presumably out of date, and a few nearly complete sets of pots, pans, flatware, silverware and cooking implements were stacked neatly along a wall. There were heavy braziers, a large spit for big game, a few long tables. Some more stuff was already in use blocking the doors. I didn’t think there was a way to stop the guards from getting through the door, so I focused on what we might do to impede them once they were in the room. Several ideas ran through my head, but had to be discarded due to lack of proper resources.  
I stopped near enough to Artemis and Jarlaxle to hear what they were saying.  
“… would only take out a few of them, and a large explosion would kill us as well,” Jarlaxle explained.  
“Don’t you have things to protect us from that sort of thing?” Artemis asked.  
“Not enough for all of us, I’m afraid.”  
“What about a way to hide and sneak past them once they…” Artemis trailed off as he noticed me listening in. I’d gotten an idea. One I couldn’t share without blowing my cover.  
“Anne?” he prompted.  
I bit my lip, unwilling to destroy over a month’s hard work in one fell swoop.  
“Come on, Anne.”  
I tried to think of a way to communicate my idea without having to explain the whole thing. Something Artemis might get, but the others hopefully not.  
“Anne.” This time, his voice had an edge of command.  
I chewed on my lip and finally leaned up and whispered in his ear, “Energy always follows the path of least resistance.” His face told me that this wasn’t enough of a clue.  
“I don’t have time for this,” he snapped.  
I opened my mouth and closed it again, glanced at Jarlaxle, and kept it shut.  
Artemis grabbed my arm and dragged me to the other end of the room. He shoved my back against the wall and stepped in close, arms trapping me in place. We were pressed together, our faces barely apart and it probably looked like we were kissing to the others.  
“Start talking,” he ordered in a whisper.  
So I explained my idea to make improvised claymore mines from Jarlaxle’s explosives and the cooking things and take out the guards when they got through, leaving the way cleared for our escape. It took a bit of reassuring him that as long as we were behind the explosives and not in front we’d be fine, assuming that magical explosions worked like chemical and mechanical ones and followed the path of least resistance and that the containers were braced well enough not to go flying about the cabin. It wasn’t the safest plan I’d ever thought of, but no one else was coming up with anything. Artemis gave me a very scary, calculating look when I’d finished telling it to him. I was pretty sure he was reassessing how dangerous I was. I didn’t want him thinking I was at all dangerous, but it was too late for that now.  
"How certain are you that this will work?" He asked.  
"Seventy percent. Okay, maybe sixty...five."  
"Do you have anything else I ought to know about going on up there?"  
"Nope." Neither of us believed me, but he didn't call me on it.  
"One more thing..." He said and kissed me. It wasn't a nice sort of kiss. It was too hard and not at all comfortable, and I knew he was only doing it so that our ruse would succeed. No way would we have been kissing this long and not be at least a little disheveled. Still, I knew my face was turning bright red when he pulled away. His face was impassive.  
“Stay here,” Artemis ordered. I stayed there while he went back to the others to pitch my idea. He somehow managed to make it seem like he’d thought of it, and I was glad for his skill at deception. I hoped my efforts to come off as a well-bred moron would keep them from suspecting that I was the progenitor of the plan. No one gave me any suspicious looks, so I had hope that my reputation would make it out of this unscathed. I was summoned to help haul things around and set them up a moment later. No one bothered to explain the plan to me, just told me to do as I was instructed and not ask questions. So I did exactly that.  
We used tables, braziers, and anything else that seemed like it would do the trick to brace the improvised explosive devices in place. I made us all ear covers from anything I could find that seemed like a good sound absorber. The others took them without question, hopefully assuming I’d been told to make them instead of me taking the initiative. Even with them, I was pretty sure our heads would ache and our ears ring for a while. Not to mention what might happen if the claymores didn’t work like they ought to. The concussive blasts would be enough to knock us on our collective asses even without the immolation and all the shrapnel. I took a long moment to pray to God and waited.  
The claymores worked. Perfectly, I might add. But knowing in theory what they would do to the men on the business end of them didn’t prepare me for the reality of charred and burning flesh, severed limbs, halved bodies of men who still hadn’t died, and all the blood and screaming. The combined assault on my senses was too much, and I threw up. I didn’t have time to linger on the thought, because Artemis had grabbed me again and was propelling me out the exit. I tried not to look at the horrific results of my handiwork as I was rushed away down the hallway, but it was hard to miss. We left the building the way we’d come in a few levels up. No one tried to stop us. They were all trying to figure out what the blast they’d heard was.  
We stayed in town just long enough to collect payment for the job and collect our things from the inn. None of us spoke for the first few hours on the road. I rode behind Artemis and tried not to think about what I’d just done to those men. I wasn’t sure I would ever sleep well again. I may not have detonated those explosives, but the idea was mine through and through. I was a murderer. I gripped Artemis’ waist tightly and buried my head between his shoulder blades, wondering how he dealt with knowing he’d killed someone. Actually, I didn’t think such things bothered him. Maybe I should talk to Drizzt about it instead. Artemis wouldn’t like that, but he’d understand. I did suspect, however, that he and I were going to have a long, and possibly unpleasant, conversation about my knowledge of explosives and just how extensive it was. That... that would be interesting. I didn't think he was very pleased with me for dropping that on him out of the blue like that, even if it had been useful.

It was weeks before I could sleep again, and the nightmares lasted even longer. If I didn't wake myself from the bad dream by shouting or screaming, Artemis was usually there to poke me until I shut up and stopped flailing. I tried to explain that I was remembering the guy who'd had someone else's shin bone through his throat and was trying to pull it out but couldn't see because his whole face had burned off. Artemis tried to muster sympathy, but was only partly successful. He offered to get me a dreamless sleep draught, but dropped the notion after I launched into a tirade about poisoning myself on some amateur chemist's sketchy concoctions. I knew he was trying to help, but sleep deprivation had robbed me of the ability to censor myself. At my insistence, I no longer accompanied them on any of their jobs, even if it meant I was on my own for days at a time.


	5. Part 5

“Whoa!” Whatever I had expected Jarlaxle to be doing when I entered the room, this wasn’t it. I was fairly sure of two things from the look on his face. First, that this wasn’t a new thing for him, and second, that he didn’t want me to know he did it. I didn’t think he would care if it had been anyone other than me who walked in. In fact, I suspected he probably had company when he did this sometimes, which was a gross thought, but as much as he tried to hide his dismay, he didn‘t want me to know. Understandably so, really. I was the person who was most likely to run and tell. He turned off his scrying mirror with a wave of his hand.  
“What can I do for you?” he asked, going for casual. He managed it too, but my response wasn’t what he was hoping for, or expecting, most likely. The hilarity of the moment had struck me in the raw, and I dissolved into a fit of laughter. Jarlaxle tried to start talking a few times, but eventually gave up and waited until I’d finished, by which point I was sitting on the floor gasping for breath between fits of giggles. I got carefully to my feet, wiping tears from my eyes, and stumbled onto a chair.  
“What was that all about?” he asked.  
“I can’t decide what combination of sad, pathetic, and outright creepy this is, Jarlaxle. All I know for sure is that it is completely ridiculous. Is this your medieval version of porn?”  
“I beg your pardon?” he tried, and nearly succeeded, to look affronted. It may have worked if I hadn’t just seen what I saw.  
“Would you like to try and explain, or should I just jump right into the third degree?” I asked. He’d flipped his eye patch down over his eye sometime during my laughing fit. His other eye narrowed a little. I took that as an invitation to proceed.  
“Jarlaxle, what exactly is the nature of your man-crush on Artemis?”  
“My what?”  
“Is this one of those ‘Artemis is hot like burning and I want to take his pants off’ things? Or is it more of an ‘Artemis is hot like burning and I want to skin him and wear his face like a mask’ things?”  
“That’s disgusting.” He was surprised. So much so that he needed more time than he had to formulate a plan to derail our conversation. I didn’t think he believed I had the mental acuity to respond this way. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I worked very hard to cultivate the appearance of unexamined stupidity and naivety. I’d been a little bit unsure as to the outcome of my efforts, but judging by his reaction to me thus far into our conversation, I had succeeded admirably.  
“Pants or face, Jarlaxle?” I watched him fumble for a deflection and considered the fact that letting him change the subject and think I could be so distracted that I’d forget what he’d been doing might be a safer course of action than the one I was taking. No, he would eventually have to make sure, and I couldn’t give him time to come up with a complete action plan, or I would be screwed.  
“I don’t have a ‘man-crush’ on Artemis, and why would you ask a question like that? And what is a man-crush?”  
“A crush is another way of saying you’re infatuated with someone. The man part, I added because it‘s a guy-on-guy thing. In your case, I was referring to your obsession with Artemis. Now, pants or face, Jarlaxle?” I watched him grimace at my explanation.  
“I’m not obsessed with him.” He was clearly going to try and deny this until he could come up with a feasible alternative explanation for his actions. Actually, he might even come up with something clever. I considered amusing myself by allowing him to think of something, but then I wouldn’t get the answers I wanted.  
“Relax. Would it make you feel better if I told you he’s obsessed with you too? Now, are we talking about pants or face masks?”  
“I’m not going to skin him and wear his face. That’s ridiculous.” He’d finally come to the conclusion that I wasn’t going to be distracted.  
“So pants, then. Well, that’s a relief.” I sat back in my chair, slouching intentionally to project my relief more clearly. I wasn’t actually feeling relieved just yet, but I was hoping I could fake it enough to fool Jarlaxle. I’d successfully made him think I was an idiot, so it might actually work.  
“How so?” I wasn’t sure if he was buying my act, but I refused to drop it until I knew for certain he wasn’t.  
“Well, if it was the face thing, it would make you a psychopathic stalker, and there’s no way I’d be leaving this room alive. If you just want to get into his pants, I’d tell you that I’m fairly certain his obsession with you isn’t entirely platonic either.”  
“I don’t want to get into his pants, for one. And two, what? Artemis does not have romantic feelings for me.”  
“I’m not saying he’s in love with you, but your relationship before whatever went down, whatever you did or didn’t do that he saw as betrayal, that relationship was very intimate for him.”  
“Intimate?” His skepticism was written all over his face.  
“Sure. You shared things about yourselves, watched one another‘s backs, spent a lot of time together. That‘s very intimate.”  
“Intimate and romantic are not the same thing.”  
“For a man like Artemis, that intimacy is probably as close as he comes to being in love. Also, I wouldn’t totally rule out the possibility of romantic feelings on his part. For the record, I just assume them on your part. You know, because of the watching him have sex and finding reasons to have him get sweaty and partially undressed at every possible opportunity.”  
“Artemis is not gay. I traveled with him for more than ten years. I think I’d have noticed.”  
“I‘m not saying he‘s gay. Maybe he's bisexual, but even that would surprise me. I think it's more that a few of his lines got a little... crossed up... in your case.”  
“That sounds like a load of crap.”  
“Speaking of which, does Artemis know you watch him when he’s having sex?”  
“I could have been watching Dahlia.” Jarlaxle wasn’t visibly squirming, but I could see the discomfort in his eyes. A new plan to distract me was forming somewhere in his head, and I knew what it was.  
“Please. If you wanted to watch Dahlia have sex, you’d just do her yourself. Does he know?”  
“Of course not,” he snorted, finally giving in.  
“Okay, good. Voyeurism makes sense for you, but exhibitionism doesn’t for him.”  
“Are you going to tell him?” Jarlaxle was trying to find my angle now. He needed to figure out how soon this was going to blow up in his face and whether or not he could postpone it by buying me off. Fortunately, I didn’t need to be bought off.  
“No, not as long as you don’t start progressing from pants to face masks.”  
“And what exactly am I paying you for your silence?”  
“I’m not blackmailing you, Jarlaxle.” I sat up so that he could see I was taking him seriously and continued, “There is no scenario in which that goes my way. You have too much experience, and I have too little. I’m not going to tell because I don’t have the stomach for the violence that would follow.”  
“What’s to stop you from changing your mind later?”  
I sighed. Clearly he was not going to let this go.  
“Fine, here’s the deal. I won’t tell Artemis you like to watch him have sex or about your giant, flaming man-crush on him. In return, if and when he finds out about this shit on his own, you won’t tell him I knew.”  
“Agreed.”  
“Okay, I say we never speak of this again.” I started to get up, wanting to leave before the conversation could restart.  
“I say we talk about your feelings for Artemis now.”  
Too late, I rolled my eyes, “My feelings for Artemis are as plain as the nose on my face and about as difficult to understand.”  
“And how do you feel about seeing him having sex with Dahlia?”  
“I already knew about that.” Artemis, for all his ability to be sneaky and secretive, was about as subtle as a slap in the face when it came to what he and Dahlia got up to. I suspected he liked to get under Drizzt’s skin. Also, He and I shared an apartment. We each had our own room, and the walls muffled things pretty well, but it was impossible to miss the frequency with which he brought her home and the state of her apparel when she left. Or her leaving in the morning.  
“It doesn’t bother you?”  
“Of course, it does. What kind of a stupid question is that?”  
“Jealous?” Jarlaxle was clearly feeling his sour grapes. Spiteful.  
“Yes, I’m jealous. Obviously. I like Artemis. I’m attracted to him. But apparently he’s like every other idiot who claps eyes on Dahlia. I don’t understand why everyone and their brother wants to get all... up in that. She’s an avid bitch, and she’s completely psychotic. I don’t know if it’s a machismo thing, or if it’s just that they think they’ll be the guy to tap that and survive the getaway, but good grief. It’s so fucking Freudian, I can’t find words to properly express the sheer stupidity of it. She’s like a praying mantis, and they’re just the suckers who keep on coming despite the clear warning on the package.”  
“You’re mixing metaphors. What’s a praying mantis?”  
“A type of insect. The female rips her partner’s head off during coitus and eats part or all of his corpse.”  
“That sounds like Dahlia.”  
“My point exactly.” I stood up to leave. 

"Anne."  
"What?"  
"Why the act?"  
I considered whether or not I wanted to answer the question. I wanted this conversation to be over, and I certainly didn't have to tell him anything, but he was calling me out on a lie. My conscience said that I should come clean. I'd already sacrificed my ace in the hole anyway. It was unlikely Jarlaxle wouldn't tell Drizzt and Dahlia about this.  
"Because you're dangerous, and I don't trust you, and now this conversation is done."


	6. Part 6

I heard doors rebounding off walls and raised voices heading my way. I considered making a quick getaway. The exit was just a few rooms away, but I suspected that trying to avoid this would only make the situation worse. I shoved anything that resembled a weapon too closely into drawers and cupboards and slid a few chairs and a table into the middle of the room, between myself and the door whoever was approaching would come through. A bit obvious, but I’d rather have a deliberate protective barrier than an open floor when angry, shouting people came through the door.  
Artemis was the first person to arrive, shouting, which was scary all on its own. He never yelled, just stabbed whoever pissed him off and watched them bleed out to calm down. Jarlaxle, Drizzt, and Dahlia followed. Jarlaxle seemed to be trying to interrupt or respond to whatever Artemis was saying, also in a raised voice. Drizzt and Dahlia looked pissed and on the verge of joining in the shouting match. I moved to my left so that I was between the table and the other door. No point in letting them block both exits. I couldn’t, however, retreat from Artemis’ advance and maintain any chance of escape. So I stood my ground and held my hands behind my back to hide the shaking. I was pretty sure fear of my impending doom was written all over my face, but whatever, nothing I could do about that. It took a minute to sort out the yelling and figure out what was being said.  
“You told Jarlaxle that I have feelings for him?” Oh, I’d wondered how long it would take for that to come back and bite me.  
“I said that your feelings for him probably aren’t entirely platonic, yes. I also said you aren't in love with him.” It was hard not to flee from the anger emanating from him. I dug my nails into my palms as he stepped dangerously nearer and forced myself to meet his eyes and not step away.  
“You said we were intimate.”  
“I said you had an intimate relationship. For you. That doesn’t mean you were physically intimate. Intimacy can be mental, emotional, psychological. It doesn’t have to be about sex.” If I made it out of this confrontation alive, it would be a miracle.  
“He said you told him I was bisexual and obsessed with him.” Okay, that did it. In the most technical sense, Jarlaxle hadn't broken our agreement, but this was close enough. If Jarlaxle wanted to throw me under the bus, fine. I had no compunctions about dragging him with me.  
“First of all, I said that the two of you are obsessed with one another. I said that you definitely aren't gay and probably aren't bisexual either, but if I had to pick one, I'd go with bisexual. I did not say that you being bisexual was the reason for the obsession. Also, did he happen to tell you how our conversation started?”  
“He said you asked him about his obsession with me.”  
“I did, but…”  
“She asked if I wanted to wear your face like a mask or take off your pants,” Jarlaxle put in. He was trying to get Artemis fired up again before I got the chance to rat him out. Too bad for him. I was going to flip this shit on its head if it was the last thing I did before Artemis killed me.  
“Shut up, Jarlaxle,” Artemis ordered, “I’m not asking you.”  
“I asked him about his obsession with you because I walked in on him watching you have sex with her,” I pointed at Dahlia, “in his scrying mirror.“  
Artemis rounded on Jarlaxle. The shouting that ensued put all previous shouting to shame, but at least it wasn’t directed at me. In fact, everyone but me was both shouting and being shouted at. Drizzt was mad at Artemis and Dahlia for having sex. Artemis and Dahlia were mad at Jarlaxle for spying on them having sex. Dahlia was mad at Drizzt for being mad that she had sex with Artemis. Jarlaxle seemed to be yelling just to be heard as he tried to back out of whatever he said earlier. Artemis was mad at Dahlia and Drizzt for something, at this point I wasn’t sure what, but it may have just been for existing. I attempted to avail myself of the opportunity to make a stealthy escape. Unfortunately, Artemis must have devoted a small amount of his brain to keeping track of me, because he caught my wrist in a slightly uncomfortable grip which, try as I might, I couldn’t get out of. He didn’t start in on me again, so I just kept still and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Honestly, I pretty much hid behind him so no one would see me or remember I was there.  
The whole thing came to a head as I’d always expected it to. Artemis let go of my wrist to reach for his weapons. Everyone else followed suit. I did the only thing I could think of. I drew Artemis’ weapons before he could, and backed toward the door. They all turned to face me, shock on their faces. I grimaced at the strain in my wrists, holding the blades like Artemis had shown me during his failed attempts to teach me how to use them. Fighting wasn’t my thing. Actually, violence of any sort wasn’t my thing.  
“Everybody calm down,” I ordered, “and you three leave so Artemis and I can talk. The rest of you can discuss this later.”  
Artemis held out his hands, “Give those to me before you hurt yourself.”  
I lowered the blades but didn’t give them back until everyone else had gone. He put them away and slid two chairs back from the table. We sat.  
“Don’t ever take my weapons off me again,” he warned. I nodded, relieved and shocked that he was satisfied with a verbal reprimand.  
“I didn’t think anything else would be jarring enough to stop you all from fighting,” I explained, “Retrospectively, it left you unarmed in the middle of a bunch of people who wanted to stab you.” Probably not the smartest thing to say.  
“Well, next time, think it through.” He was still angry with me, but I could see calmness seeping back in now that he wasn’t shouting.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jarlaxle scrying you. I didn’t want a fight to start, so I just bought an anti-scrying charm and hid it in your room without telling you.”  
“Where?”  
“I tied it on the base of the lamp holder. I figured no one would notice it or move it from there. I‘d have gotten one for on your person, but I couldn‘t think of a reason for wanting you to wear it that wouldn‘t be suspicious.”  
“You could have told the truth.”  
I grimaced, “I know. I really am sorry, Artemis. Also, I’m sorry I talked to Jarlaxle about you even though I knew it wasn’t my business and you wouldn’t like it.”  
“If you knew that, then why did you?”  
“I had to figure out what my chances were of making it out of the room alive.”  
“I suppose. Do you really think I’m obsessed with Jarlaxle?” He sat forward in his chair suddenly, and I sat back involuntarily in mine.  
“You and Jarlaxle are obsessed with one another,” I explained, “You pretty much only talk to one another if you’re in the same room, and half of your conversations when you’re apart revolve around the other person.”  
“How do you feel about me and Dahlia?” That question caught me off guard.  
“Are you and Dahlia a thing, actually?”  
“Are you avoiding the question?”  
“I’m trying to get clarification.” This was not a line of questioning I wanted to be involved in.  
“Dahlia and I have sex.”  
“I already knew that. I mean, is it more than sex? Do you want it to be?”  
“You’re avoiding the question.” He folded his arms on his chest and sat back. I sat forward, trying to assume a less defensive posture.  
“I’m trying to figure out what you’re thinking. I think getting involved with her was stupid of you, but you’re already in it, so hindsight and whatever. I think it’s going to end poorly. I can’t figure out if you actually like her, or if you’re just bored or trying to get Drizzt all riled up. I know it isn’t anything to Dahlia other than physical attraction and raging self-esteem issues. So how in the world am I supposed to know what to feel? Also, since when are you this interested in feelings?”  
“I’m always interested in your feelings, but you haven‘t answered my question.”  
“Okay, fine. I don’t like it. I don’t like her. I don’t like the two of you together. I’d say you should get uninvolved, but then you’ll have to fight her because that’s what she does when her lovers leave her, and you knew that going in. One of the two of you will die, and if it’s you, she’ll probably kill me next. If you stay involved, she’s eventually going to demand you get rid of me or try to kill me herself because she’s has serious issues, and she’s a raging bitch.” I took a breath to calm down.  
“You really don’t like her at all.”  
“I don’t think dislike covers it, Artemis.”  
“You want me to stop sleeping with her.” It wasn’t a question. I was pretty sure he knew the answer and was testing me to see if I would tell the truth.  
“I want you to never have started sleeping with her, but it’s too late for that, and I don’t know if it’ll be worse if you keep doing it or stop. Frankly, my best option for surviving this whole debacle is getting as far away from it as possible.” The look that crossed Artemis’ face when I suggested this was one I’d never seen before, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. He smoothed his face back out before I could get a lock on it.  
“You’re not leaving on your own. You‘d be dead in a week,” he declared.  
“I’m not going to take off in the middle of nowhere. I’m not that dumb. If I left in a city, I could find a job and somewhere to stay.”  
“We’ve been traveling together for nearly a year, and you still don’t know how the money here works, how to trade, how to get someone to hire you, how to tell if someone is trying to take advantage of you. You can’t even tell when men are trying to flirt with you.”  
“Men do not flirt with me, Artemis. As for the money thing, it’s a barter system. There are no clear standards of quality or price, everything is handmade, and I have no frame of reference with which to understand the relative values of merchandise. And I could find a high-paying job in any field that requires a person to read, write, and do math since apparently no one goes to school here.”  
“Men try to flirt with you every time we’re in an inn or a shop, you’re just so oblivious that you don’t notice. And you wouldn’t even know where to look for a job.”  
“That’s not flirting. It’s trying to sell me something. People say all kinds of things when they think it'll make you more likely to spend money. I could find work at a library, a temple, a shipyard, any shop that needed a clerk. Anyone who needs an accountant or a scribe would hire me.” His mouth set in a hard line as he realized I‘d given this notion more thought than he‘d assumed.  
“It doesn’t matter. You aren’t leaving.”  
“I might have to if I want to stay alive.”  
“I’ve protected you from everything else that’s come our way. Why don’t you trust me now?” He was either frustrated or upset. I couldn’t tell which.  
“You weren’t trying to get up close and personal with any of the previous threats.”  
“Do you really think I’d let Dahlia kill you just so I could have sex with her?”  
“I don’t know. I hope not, but every time I think I‘ve got you locked in, you surprise me. It doesn‘t exactly inspire confidence in my ability predict your actions.”  
Artemis stood up and paced a little. I waited for him to say something. After a few minutes he perched back on the edge of his chair, stared at me for a moment, then got back up and paced. I gritted my teeth a little and waited. He finally stopped behind me, which made me nervous because I couldn’t see him. He touched my left shoulder, and I looked at him hesitantly. His face gave away nothing useful.  
“I’m not going to kill you or let anyone else kill you. ”  
I nodded.  
“And you’re not leaving.”  
I sighed, “Artemis…”  
“No. You’re not leaving.”  
“Dahlia will find a way to kill me when your back is turned. You can’t watch me or her all the time.” My voice was half-pleading. I tried to get it back under control.  
“She’s not as crazy as you think, and anyway, I can take her in a fight.”  
“She is as crazy as I think. You just don‘t see it because you think she‘s hot.”  
“I’m not stupid enough to let my attraction to her cloud my judgment.”  
“I’d have said the same thing about you before you started banging her.”  
It was his turn to sigh, “You really think it’s that bad?”  
“Artemis, you’re having sex with a woman who literally walks around announcing to the world that she sleeps with men and then kills them when they try to escape her crazy because how dare they not think the sun shines out her butt crack. So, yes, I think it‘s that bad. It was a bad decision like every other decision mankind has ever made with his penis. Honestly, it surprised me and scared me a little. I‘d never seen you make a decision with your penis instead of your brain before, and this was a bad one to start with.”  
He sat back down on his chair, staring at me, “Are you calling me stupid?” He was insulted. I was walking on very thin ice here.  
“You’re a smart guy, Artemis, but this was a stupid decision. And don‘t you dare get mad at me now for being truthful when you kept poking at this after I wanted to leave it be.”  
“I’ll figure out what to do. Let‘s go back to the apartment. Is there anything else you need to do here?”  
I couldn’t remember what I’d been doing before the shit hit the fan, so I said I didn’t and we left. We didn’t talk on the way there, and the silence was a bit awkward instead of the comfortable silence we usually cultivated. Even so, I didn’t break it. Better to leave him to his thoughts. When we got to our apartment, we stood in the common area for a few minutes, just sort of staring at one another. It was way too early for bed, but neither of us wanted to go socialize. I sat at one end of the couch, picking up a book I’d bought a few weeks ago but hadn’t had time to read. It was still weird to see all the pages handwritten instead of printed. Artemis sat next to me and lay his head on my lap, stretching out. I moved the book to my right hand and set the other on his chest. He settled in to think or take a nap or whatever, and I got started on my book. We stayed that way until Artemis left to go see Dahlia, and I started fixing myself supper.


	7. Part 7

I left in the middle of the day. The fighting was in full swing, and I saw the writing on the wall. Leaving the healer’s tent, where I'd been volunteering, I made my way to my room as rapidly as possible, grabbed the bag I kept packed and ready under the bed, and yanked my cloak on. I stole a crossbow and as many quarrels as I could find from dead soldiers. On the way to the gate, I had to duck into concealment when I saw Dahlia heading toward the healers with a determined look on her face. I hurried down to join the next group of people who were fleeing the battle.  
I didn’t even check to see where they were going, just slipped into the side of the group as they headed out the gate. The woman I was walking next to looked harried and sad. She was carrying her infant son, and her little girl walked next to her, clutching at her skirt. I introduced myself, and she said her name was Amy, her son was Rueben, and her daughter was named Julia. She said her husband had been killed in the fighting, and she and her children were going away to live with her younger brother. I told her I was just leaving to avoid the violence and offered to help look after her kids on the way.  
It was nice to spend time with children. At home, I babysat for my nieces and nephews often, and I missed them. So it was fun to have little ones to play with and care for. It was also a nice change from running with dangerous and angry people. More than a month went by before we arrived at Amy’s brother’s place. He and his wife owned a farm in a town called Fern. They were very kind, but despite the offer, I didn’t stay. It was hard saying goodbye, especially to Rueben and Julia, but I was still too close to Artemis and Dahlia to feel good about lingering. Our dwindling group left the next day, having restocked our supplies. We were heading southwest. I still hadn’t asked about our destination, but I figured it wouldn‘t matter since I didn‘t mean to end there. Another month on the road, and I joined up with a merchant caravan headed to the West. They were polite but distant, and I didn’t try to get close to any of them. I got a lot of strange looks because of my accent and speech patterns, but any trouble was deterred by my crossbow, which they didn‘t seem to realize I couldn‘t use very well. Fortunately, my education made me a valuable asset, and I made some money doing odd jobs. I left them in a small town to travel with a tanner and his wife back to their even smaller town. I met the wife, Dara, at the market, and we got to talking about our families and eventually our homes.  
“Is there a school there?” I asked.  
“A school?”  
“You know, a place where you learn to read and write and do mathematics.”  
“No, no school, but the priest and the mayor can read, and I know my letters.” She was very proud of this. “Do you know how to read then?”  
“Yes, where I come from, everyone goes to school. It’s the law. The government provides free schooling.”  
“What’s a government?”  
“A government is an organization that rules over a group of people.”  
“Like a king?”  
“Yes, we would call that an autocratic government: a monarchy, or a tyranny.”  
“How do the governments pay for it?”  
“Taxes. Government-run businesses.”  
“That must be a lot of taxes.”  
“Sure. Sales taxes, income taxes, property taxes, taxes on imports and exports. Federal taxes, state taxes. You name it, we’ve got it. Well, not religious taxes, unless you count tithes people donate, but those aren‘t required by law.”  
“All those? How do you make enough to live on?”  
“There’s a minimum wage.”  
“How does that work?”  
“The government figured out the cost of living a long time ago, and they make adjustments for inflation and stuff, then assuming a forty hour work week with holidays, they set an hourly wage so that one can make enough to live on for the year. It’s actually different in each state because they adjust it to account for state taxes and stuff. And there are government programs to help people living below the poverty line.”  
She shook her head, “What’s inflation?”  
“The value of money changes depending on the amounts and values of the goods and services a country produces. Inflation is what they call it when the price of goods and services goes up to compensate for a decrease in the value of the money being paid for it.”  
“That’s confusing.”  
“Then I must not be explaining it very well."  
“When do you start going to school?” she changed the subject.  
“When you’re five. Then you go to school every year from September to May until you are eighteen. You can continue going to school after that, at a university or college, but you have to pay for it or find someone to either foot the bill or lend you money.”  
“It takes that long to learn to read and write?”  
“Oh my goodness, no! I could read before I was done with my first year. Most children can read by the end of the first or second year, third at the latest. Writing as well, though it takes a while to learn how to spell things properly. The things you read and write just get more complicated as you progress. You know, short easy words and sentences for the smallest children, and longer, multi-syllabic words for the older ones. We also learn numbers and mathematics. The basics like counting, addition, and subtraction first. Then multiplication, division, working with fractions, algebra, and geometry. You can choose to learn more complex maths in higher grades, like trigonometry and calculus. We have science classes and of course, social sciences. There are life skills classes where you learn how to do things like balance a budget, cook, sew, do laundry. There are trades classes, although those aren’t usually required, where you can learn a little bit of carpentry, or metal working, or fixing machines. There are various arts and music classes, classes where you learn sports, theater classes. Some of it depends on the school.”  
“Everyone learns all of that?”  
“Not all, but a lot of it. Once you get further into your studies, they let you choose some of the classes you want to take. So not everyone takes every class. Do you think anyone in your town would be interested?”  
“No one has the money to go or to send their children.”  
“I wouldn’t need much paying, just a place to stay and teach and some food.”  
“You should talk to the mayor.”  
“Will you introduce me to him?”  
“Of course. I‘m sure he‘ll be very excited at the idea.”  
“I hope so.”  
“Were you a teacher where you came from?”  
“No, but I went to school, and I think I could teach the basics to other people.”  
“What does your father do? Is he a lord?” She seemed eager at the notion, and I hated to have to let her down.  
“There are no lords where I come from. My father manages a power plant in the city.”  
“Is he very important?”  
“Not in the grand scheme of things, but on a local level, sure.”  
“And is he very rich?”  
“He and my mother had ten children, so no, but we never went hungry.”  
“That’s a lot of children.”  
“It is. And your father?” I redirected the questions, not wanting to think too much about my family.  
“My father is a tailor. He makes a good living.”  
“And your mother? Any siblings?”  
“I have a younger sister. She’s not married yet, but she makes eyes at the baker’s son. I'm hoping he'll get a move on and ask to marry her soon. It isn't like she's being shy about how much she likes him. My mother is alive and well. I see them often.”  
“How did you meet your husband?”  
“My father needed to buy leather for a special order, and he brought me with to help him. Terry was in his last year of apprenticeship there. We talked while my father and his master did business. He came to live in Yarrow when he finished his apprenticeship, and we were married.”  
“That sounds nice.”  
“Are you married?” she asked.  
“No, I’m not.”  
“Are you promised to anyone?” I think she was hoping for some sort of romantic tale.  
“No, and I'm not likely to be any time soon."  
“Your father didn’t arrange anything for you?” She was floored by the idea.  
“That’s not how it works where I come from.”  
“No?” She looked, if possible, even more shocked than before.  
“No, if I want to be married, I have to find my own husband.”  
“Why haven’t you?”  
“I’m only twenty-three years old. That’s young for marriage where I come from.”  
“It is?”  
“I think most people marry at around twenty-six or twenty-eight.”  
“You must come from a very strange place.”  
I laughed, “I think this place is strange too.”  
“The merchants said you joined them from a group of people fleeing a war.” The question was implied.  
“I did. I was living in a city with a friend, but I left to get away from the fighting.”  
“That sounds frightening.”  
“It was. I’ve never been on my own before. It’s very unsettling. It’ll be nice to find a place to feel at home again.”  
“Well, I hope you’ll stay here. If you start a school, will you teach only children or adults as well?”  
“I would teach anyone who was willing to learn, male or female, young or old. It’s all good.”  
She laughed, and we talked about school the rest of the way to town.


	8. Part 8

The mayor was happy to let me start a school once I told him I didn’t expect him to pay me a salary. He called a meeting to pitch the idea to the townsfolk. I told them I’d be willing to teach anyone who wanted to learn how to read, write, and do mathematics if they would give me a place to live and teach and send a little food with their children each day until I could start my own subsistence farm. I said I could teach things like science, art and music as well if they wanted.  
There was some discussion, and they agreed to let me try for a year after which point they would meet again to see if they would like to keep me on. There was an abandoned house on a small plot of land I could use. The former residents had died of the fevers, and it had been empty nearly a year. It sat at the top of a small hill on the east end of town and had a well and a goat shack. Terry, the tanner, said I could stay with him and his wife until the building was habitable, and the matter was settled.  
Dara took me to see the place after the meeting. It was a small, two room affair with dirt floors and glassless windows. The outer door had rotted off its hinges, and the roof leaked, but the walls were sturdy, and the mayor had promised to have the building fixed. I eyed the surrounding land, trying to picture where I might want to put a garden. There were four apple trees on the southern slope near the well, and a goat shack with a broken fence. It was more than I could have hoped for. I thought I’d be able to make a good start here.  
We went straight from there to Dara and Terry’s house, which was closer to town than mine. Dara was shocked to learn that I couldn’t sew or do laundry and could only barely cook. I explained that I’d never had to sew since I bought all my clothes pre-made and didn‘t bother with tailoring. I had never bothered to learn to cook until I hadn’t had a choice, and that someone else did my laundry or I did it with a machine. She was baffled by this, and seemed to be drawing conclusions about me inside her head, but agreed to help me learn how. I wasn’t looking forward to the washing of clothes in particular, but I was pretty sure that once I was settled, I could build something to make it easier. Something that would allow me to spin the water out like a proper washing machine. A drier would be nice too, but that would take more thought before I was willing to use it on actual clothes. No point in setting the few articles of clothing I owned on fire.  
I tried to explain this idea to Dara and see if she thought someone in town would be able to make one for me, but I clearly wasn’t painting a good picture in her head, and I eventually gave up and moved on. Her husband was nice, but didn’t say much. I couldn’t tell if he was shy or just reserved, but I didn’t push, figuring it would be easiest to let him come to me when he was comfortable. That night, I read to them from one of the story books I’d brought along.  
I slept on my travel bedroll in a corner of their main room. I woke up before the sun and found that my hosts weren’t up yet. I was careful not to wake them, using the tricks Artemis had taught me to be silent as I made my way outside to get water and wash up a little. Sitting outside their front door, I watched the sun come up and wondered how long it would take Artemis or Dahlia to find me. I wasn’t sure Dahlia would look for me even if Artemis left her, but I knew Artemis would. I’d left him against his expressed wishes without explanation, and that wasn’t something he took kindly to. I might not even survive our next encounter.  
That was something I wasn’t going to think about for a while. I’d be surprised if either of them found me any time soon. Instead, I thought about the school I was going to open here. I’d need to come up with a curriculum and a lesson plan. I wondered how many people would come for class, and how I might keep them interested. I’d have to start with letters and numbers. Sounds, sight words, letter combinations, phonetic spelling, simple addition and subtraction, borrowing and carrying, arrays, compound words, all kinds of things. I’d never taught anyone anything before. This could be a disaster. I didn’t have pencils and paper or even chalk and a chalkboard. I supposed we could write in the dirt until I could get proper writing materials. Maybe use coal on the inside of bark. It was going to be tough to get this thing rolling. I’d made some money while on the road keeping books and doing clerical work for the merchants. I’d even had a few people pay me to write letters for them. So I had enough money to pay for some of the things I’d need, but I wasn’t sure how far it would go.  
I made a mental list of the things I’d need for the school, from tables and chairs to paper to instruments for music lessons to supplies for science lessons. I didn’t think it’d all happen, but there was nothing wrong with having a wish list. I’d probably blow a lot of my money on furniture, the more I thought about it. I hoped the whole idea didn’t go bust before it even got off the ground.


	9. Part 9

Artemis didn’t slam any doors open as he entered the room. There still wasn’t a door on the tiny building the town had set up as a school for me to teach in. I looked up from the arithmetic problem I was helping a little boy with and saw him stalking toward me. I stood, and he came to a stop about three feet in front of me. We stared at one another for a moment.  
“Hello, Artemis.”  
“Hello.” He radiated anger, though he was keeping it under control, and it didn’t show on his carefully blank face.  
“Children,” I said, turning toward the class, all of which was staring at the two of us, “school is closing early today. Leave your slates where they are, and we’ll pick back up on this lesson in the morning. Please make sure my other students know as well.”  
They did as I asked and filed out of the building. When they had all gone, I finally looked back up at Artemis. His hands were clenched into fists, but I doubted he was going to take a swing at me. I waited for him to speak.  
“I told you not to leave.”  
“And I told you that Dahlia was going to try and kill me.”  
“I said I wouldn’t let her.”  
“We hadn’t had a conversation in over a month, Artemis,” I began stacking slates and putting them on the shelf, “You spent all your extra time with her, and refused to engage whenever I tried to talk to you. I don’t think it was unreasonable for me to assume that you weren’t going to protect me.”  
“You still should have tried.”  
“Artemis, it was in the middle of a battle. You were busy, and I saw that she’d found her opportunity. I wasn’t going to wait it out and hope I could get to you before she got to me. She’d have killed me and blamed it on the other guys.”  
“I’d have known it was her.” He turned to watch me start stacking stools in the corner.  
“And I’d have been dead. I ran in order to stay alive, Artemis. No one was going to protect me, and I can’t fight. That’s the truth now, and it was the truth then.”  
“That’s not…”  
I cut him off, “You will not fault me for this, Artemis. I did the only thing I could do to stay alive that didn’t involve hurting or killing anyone.”  
He grabbed my shirt and pulled me forward a step, fury written all over his face. My hands came up in an instinctive gesture of surrender and supplication. I didn’t think he would actually hurt me. I didn’t think he would, but I wasn’t sure. His anger morphed suddenly into misery, then a sort of unhappy resignation. He pulled me another step closer and gripped my shoulders with both hands, not looking me in the eyes. I waited, confused and full of apprehension for him to speak. I was opening my mouth to say something, what I don’t know, when he finally spoke.  
“It hurt me.”  
His voice was so low, it was hard to hear, but I knew I had. I was so surprised, I just stood with my mouth open, not saying anything.  
“You abandoned me,” he said, “and that hurt me.”  
“I left because I didn’t think you would help me. You wouldn’t listen when I told you she was crazy, when I said she was going to kill me, after I told you she’d moved from dropping hints to outright threats, or when I asked you to stop seeing her and take me as far from her as it was possible to go.”  
“I know…”  
“You said I was being jealous, overly sensitive, and paranoid,” my volume was going up as all my pent up anger and hurt surfaced, “You dismissed my fears every time, Artemis. Do you know how hard it was for me to even tell you about them? I didn’t want you to think I was weak or a coward or not worth your time.” I pushed at his chest and arms, trying to get him to let go, but was unsuccessful, “I was nearly certain you were on the verge of abandoning me already because I was clearly deadweight. You seemed like you were barely tolerating me, and there I was, dumping more problems on you, hoping you would solve them. You told me I should rely on you to protect me, and then called me petty and immature when I brought a legitimate threat to you and asked for your help,” I paused for a breath and continued more calmly, “You know I can’t fight, and hiding there would have been a stop-gap measure at best. More battles were going to happen in the next few days. You were going to be busy and exhausted. She’d have had many more chances to see me dead, and you wouldn’t have been there to stop her. I’m too practical to buy into the notion of standing and fighting when I know I won’t win, not when mine is the only life on the line and I can save it by running instead. I don’t care about honor and glory and being brave, or whatever you want to call it, in the face of danger. If my best option is getting the fuck out of dodge, then that’s what I’m going to do, and I’ll do it by whatever means I have available to me.”  
“I know that.”  
“Then what exactly did you expect me to do?”  
“I don’t know. I just…” he sighed and released me, stepping back, “I just didn’t want you to leave.”  
“Well, not enough to end things with Dahlia in order to keep me there.”  
“I didn’t stay with her after I found out that she was why you left.”  
“Why else would I have gone?”  
“There was a lot of fighting in those first two weeks. I first thought you’d found a place to hide during the battles or were helping with supplies or the healers. There was a lot going on, so I didn’t worry the first week. When the second week started, I asked around, and enough people said they thought they’d seen you about that I thought I was worrying over nothing. Then I checked in your room and found it had been unused for far too long for you to just be busy, and some of your things were missing. So I looked again and asked some more, and when I couldn’t find you, I confronted Dahlia. That went about as well as you probably think it did.”  
“She’s dead then?”  
“Considering that I took her head off and burned the corpse, she’d better be.”  
I simultaneously felt relieved and sick to my stomach. I hated Dahlia and wanted Artemis to protect me from her, but it still bothered me that she was dead and that he‘d done it. Sometimes, I confused myself. Whatever was on my face, Artemis seemed to take it as a positive thing. He stepped closer to me again, and I retreated a half-step. He turned one of the small stools the children sat on during class with his foot and nudged me onto it. It was very low down, and he crouched down so that our eyes were level. His hands landed on the middles of my thighs, and I instinctively grabbed them to immobilize them.  
“Why did it take you so long to find me?” I asked.  
“You’re a lot better at disappearing than you think,” he smiled a little, “I searched nearly the whole city until I found someone who’d seen you leave. Then, it turned out she sent me in the wrong direction, and I had to go back and ask about where people may have gone if they fled during the fighting. It took me six tries to find the right group of people, and then I had to retrace their path to find where you split up with them. Then I had to find the caravan you joined and ask where you split with them. Then I had to figure out where you went from there. You picked a good spot. Tiny, remote, few people even pass through here on the way to somewhere else. I might have missed it too, except one of the locals said something about a woman setting up a school for the poor, and how his children were going to have a high-toned and fancy education, and all he had to do was send some food along to the school house every time they went. That sounded exactly like something you would think up."  
“Did he actually use the phrase ’high-toned and fancy’?” I giggled a little in spite of myself.  
“Yes, and that would have been enough to make me check this place out even if he hadn’t mentioned free education.” Artemis sat on the floor between my ankles, gripping my legs a little tighter like he expected me to try and get up now that he’d settled.  
“The town pays me by giving me this building to use and bringing me food or clothing occasionally.”  
“You don’t get paid any wages. And how did you plan to stay alive during the winter anyway?”  
“I’ve been doing some repairs and making the walls better and more insulated,” I said, “and I taught the townsfolk how to make charcoal, which gives off a lot more heat than wood and lasts longer. I have a lean-to out back to store it in, and they bring me some from every batch they make. I also dug out a cellar under the house to store food in.”  
“How?”  
“Well, technically, I paid some of the older children to help me dig it, then I lined it with wood and added some support beams so it wouldn’t collapse. It’s not huge, but it should serve its purpose.”  
“You’ve been fixing this place up, and you still haven’t added a door?”  
“It’s barely autumn. The weather has been warm enough that I don’t need it, and I like my students to feel welcome. Besides, one of the women in my adult class said her husband would come put one up before it got too cold.”  
“You aren’t worried about wild animals or goblins?” He wasn’t reassured by my explanation, apparently.  
“Oh, that’s what my crossbow is for.”  
His eyebrows went up, and I blushed.  
“I’ll show you,” I offered, “I designed it myself. It’s more like the weapons we have where I come from.”  
“I thought you hated weapons and violence.”  
“I do, but you weren’t around to protect me anymore. Besides, I haven’t had to use it on anything, it’s more the idea that I can defend myself if I have to.”  
He nodded and stood, pulling me up by my hands, and I led him to the front of the classroom. I lifted the crossbow and a clip of quarrels from where they were concealed. He took the bow and examined it.  
“What the hell is this?” he asked.  
“It’s a lever-action repeating crossbow,” I explained, “I didn’t want a crank, and reloading one quarrel at a time is really inconvenient, so I looked at a standard one, drew up some plans for a better one, and got the local trades people to make the parts.”  
“It works?”  
“Like a charm. I set up a few straw targets for practice. I‘d have made a spring-loaded horse bow if I knew how to make a strong enough spring and if I could explain rifling to anyone here. Well, those aren’t the only reasons, but you get the point.”  
“You realize that a lot of people would pay good money to get the plans for this thing?”  
“Yes, and that is why there is only one copy, and I didn’t let the locals keep or duplicate the drawings I gave them for the parts they made. I went to someone different for each part and didn‘t even tell them what it was for.”  
“They didn’t ask?”  
“I came up with a few convincing lies. No one seemed suspicious.” I watched him fiddle with the crossbow for a few moments, and then he gave it back to me. I put it and the clip back into the hiding place. I was sure he saw the other clips and the knife I kept there, but he didn‘t comment.  
“You live here then?” he asked.  
“Yes, in the other room. The mason and bricklayer added a second, smaller fireplace for cooking in there so that I can keep the school separate from my private things. There‘s a well out back for water, and an old goat house I‘ve turned into a sort of tool shed and wood storage area. I was thinking I might raise chickens or sheep or a goat next year, and that I‘d like to have a vegetable garden of my own.”  
“You plan to stay?” I couldn’t tell if the idea upset him or not.  
“I do. I like this job. I like children and teaching. I get to use my brain and teach people to do the things I love to do. I still don’t have that many practical skills, but some of the people I teach are willing to return the favor.”  
“You don’t think you’ll get bored from lack of new stimulation?”  
“I might, but I can always take time to travel around once some of the other people here know enough to teach the basics while I’m gone. Or I could go in the late fall and winter when there’s too much work for people to take time each day for class or it‘s too cold to come this far. I could leave to get supplies and stuff. They’d understand. I thought I might start collecting books and make a library.”  
He stared at me intently for a while, and I met him with a level gaze. I wasn’t going to leave this place to follow him.  
“Let me stay with you,” he said. I blinked. That was not the request I’d expected from him.  
“Stay here?”  
“Yes.”  
“You want to stay here?”  
“With you, yes.”  
“You don’t think you’ll be bored?”  
“Not if I’m with you,” he said, and I blushed, “I can read and write. I could help teach, and you could teach me the harder math stuff. Or I could help guard the town, train the locals to fight, or just work on fixing this place up or something.”  
“Do you have the patience to teach?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“What about languages? Could you teach some of the foreign languages you know? You taught me to speak a few.”  
“You learn quickly, and I could try.”  
“You’re going to be okay with nosey, overbearing housewives trying to marry their daughters to you, ignorant farmers, and all the young idiots who are too big for their breeches? You won’t run anyone through for stepping on your toes out of sheer boredom?”  
“I can handle it, and I doubt these women will try to get me to marry their daughters. Have they tried to get you to marry their sons?”  
“I am apparently way too high-falutin’ for their sons. Wait until you hear them talk about my fine education, good breeding, and lady-like ways. I’m considered quiet but more on the coarse side where I come from. I’d never heard people refer to me as being too genteel and proper for a country boy in my life until I got here. I actually heard the blacksmith scold one of the young men in town for thinking he was good enough to court me. I tried to tell them I come from solid peasant stock, that my ancestors were literally reindeer herders, but they just got these knowing looks on their faces and nodded along.”  
“What’s a reindeer?”  
“It’s like a deer, but it lives in a lot colder climates and people own them like cattle. Their antlers are a little different, and their coloring, but they’re basically like the deer around here.”  
Artemis smiled again, amused, “They think you’re making up a story to hide the fact that you’ve run away from home. They probably think you’re a lord’s daughter or something.”  
“Oh, my goodness. They’re going to think you’re the lover I eloped with who is finally able to reunite with me after losing our tail or some crap.”  
“I bet you the local priest offers to marry us in secret within a week.” He was enjoying making me squirm.  
“Oh, good grief. Couldn’t we tell them you’re my brother come to look after me or something?”  
“No one would buy that, not even an idiot, and certainly not the people in this town.”  
“We’re going to have to get married if you stay here, aren’t we?”  
“We could say that we already are.”  
“I told them I had no husband when I got here. Dara, the tanner's wife, asked. I think she was checking to see if her sister had competition.”  
“You realize that won’t make a difference now, right?”  
“I suppose, it would make sense for me to lie about you if I was trying to hide.”  
“You still want to stay?”  
“Yes.”  
“And can I stay with you?”  
I thought about what he was really asking. If he stayed, we were going to essentially be married, even if it was pretend. I wondered if he'd ever want to really be married to me. He didn't seem like the marrying sort. On the other hand, he clearly liked me enough to offer to stay in one place for my sake. That was something I'd never have expected. I looked up at him and set the first few fingertips on my right hand on the pulse in his throat. He held very still. His pulse was slightly rapid for him, but steady.  
“What’s your name?” I asked. Time to get a baseline reading.  
“Artemis Entreri.” He knew what I was trying to do and was cooperating.  
“Who is your least favorite person in the world?”  
“Jarlaxle.” His pulse jumped.  
“The truth?”  
“Kimmuriel.” His pulse was steady this time.  
“Apologize for being such a dick about the Dahlia thing.”  
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you and take your concerns seriously,” steady pulse, “and I’m sorry I hurt you and didn’t keep my promise to protect you.”  
“I accept your apology. If I allow you to stay, will you do your best by me? Work with me? Keep me safe? Help me make good decisions? And allow me to do the same for you when I can?”  
“I will do all of these things and more if I can.” His pulse didn’t move.  
“Do you love me?” This was a risky question. I had no idea how I wanted him to answer.  
“You are the first person I can honestly say that I believe I have loved since my mother sold me into slavery. I have allowed you to step all over the lines and boundaries I set up time and time again, and it doesn’t upset me to have done so.” Steady pulse. I took my hand off his pulse and set his fingers on my own.  
“Do you forgive me for the whole Dahlia thing?” he asked.  
“Yes, I do.”  
“And do you love me?”  
“I love you, Artemis. You know that I do. I loved you when you protected me and tried to help me find a way home. I loved you even when you took lovers on the road, and when I was afraid I couldn’t rely on you.”  
“Then you’ll let me stay with you?”  
“I will.”  
He grinned relieved, and I held out my arms for a hug.  
“All the people here are going to feel vindicated, you know. Your secret lover, for whom you ran away, has arrived to sweep you off your feet and marry you before your father, the Earl, can stop him,” he murmured. I laughed against his shoulder.  
“Please, my father is at least a Duke. And it’s all very romantic, I’m sure. Also, I thought we decided we were already married.”  
"Yes, but we eloped, so it wasn't a proper one, and a fine and delicate lady needs an equally fancy wedding." The rest of the day we spent catching up, and I showed him around my land and talked about the town. I waited all day to see if he would kiss me, but he didn’t, and I wondered what was holding him back. We slept that night back to back as we’d done many times on the road, and I felt easy for the first time in nearly a year.


	10. Part 10

Everyone who could find an excuse showed up at the school the next day. Several of the men even brought weapons, although they quickly determined that it was useless to try and intimidate my new companion. Artemis was uncharacteristically passive and allowed them to be their version of threatening without emasculating them. I was both surprised and impressed by his restraint. The young women giggled a little over Artemis, who was indeed very handsome. The children asked about a thousand questions, which he tried to answer. They were as fascinated with him as they’d been with me when I first arrived. I eventually rescued him from them by announcing that the first class was about to start and shoeing the littlest ones onto their stools. Everyone else shuffled out.  
“Children, this is my friend, Artemis. He’ll be helping me teach you to read and write. He’s never been a teacher before though, just like me when I started, so be patient as he figures things out.”  
“Yes, Miss A,” they chorused. It was the closest I could get them to calling me by my given name. I suspected their parents told them not to.  
“We’re going to pick up where we left off yesterday. Who remembers what we were learning about?”  
Several hands went up, and class was under way. I watched Artemis get used to helping the little ones hold their chalk properly, answer questions, and just generally interact with them. He was a bit stiff, but I could tell he was trying, and he made it through without scaring anyone, which was impressive. Most people were scared by him. Music time was the best. I liked to take time in the middle of class, between reading and math, to sing and play on the simple little instruments I had collected. It let the children move around a bit and music was good for learning. Also, I loved music. Artemis was a little awkward, but he did actually play on one of the flutes and sing a bit. I’d never heard him sing before. He had a nice voice but was untrained.  
The next class was older children, they were further along in their learning since I gave them a more rigorous work load, and they were considerably calmer. They all wanted to ask me about Artemis and Artemis about himself but were more restrained when going about it. I could tell Artemis preferred this age group to the last. These kids had both a music and an art class, which alternated days, and I took time to teach them team sports. I knew they likely worked in teams whenever anything got built or doing other work at home, but I wanted to have organized teamwork as part of my curriculum, with a goal, a plan, and everyone doing their specific part to make it happen. Artemis was fascinated by this. I was in the middle of teaching them to play soccer, or as close as I could get to it only knowing some of the rules, since I’d had to chose games that required few materials and ones that were easy to find. He had fun though, and picked up on it quickly. I again considered adding combat training to the things we could teach. Artemis would certainly know how to do those things.  
The third class was all of the pre-teens and early teenagers. I let them have a short question and answer time at the start of class, then we didn’t bring up anything to do with Artemis’ arrival again. They were at about the same level, reading and writing-wise, as the last class, but further along in math, and I liked to add a little of the various sciences into their lessons, also basic information about ‘their changing bodies’ and a bit about foreign places and geography. I planned to have Artemis tell them about foreign places and cultures in the future since he was much more traveled than me. Their music and art classes also alternated days, but the things we learned were much more structured and complicated. Artemis was more a student than a teacher in those classes, but neither he nor the kids seemed to mind. He was very helpful during the phy ed class. I had a hard time keeping up physically since I wasn’t very adept at that sort of thing, so having him there to help was nice.  
At the start of the adults' class, I introduced him to each person individually and let him explain our relationship. I figured it was the easiest way to do things. The adults weren’t picking up on things as easily as the children. They understood the concepts and reasoning more easily, but having pretty much passed the critical period of learning, which I’d explained to them a long time ago, without much or any exposure to these things, it was going to take them longer to learn. I added in more of the sciences, emphasizing critical thinking and the scientific method, and more information on health and how the human body worked. I let Artemis do the geography lesson this time around. When I first started teaching, I’d offered the adults arts and music classes not expecting them to be much interested. They’d been surprisingly enthusiastic, even bringing their own art work, instruments, and songs to class. They helped me learn to play, and I taught them to sing and transcribe their music on paper, even add the harmonies they wanted. At the end of each month, all of the classes got together in town and performed the new songs they’d learned. Some of the adults in town came only for the music part of my classes. In art class, craftsmen taught us about their trades, and I taught drawing and painting as best I could with limited materials and learned several folk dances.  
By the end of the day, Artemis was ready for everyone to leave and to have some peace and quiet. I ushered the last few people out the door, promising that we’d come to dinner soon, but Artemis needed to settle in. The man himself was standing in the back room examining the food we’d been given. Some of it always went into feeding the children who were here during lunchtime, but there was a large portion left for storage and my own meals. We set some aside for our supper and put the rest away, then sat down to rest.  
“How do you do that every day?”  
“I don’t,” I explained, “There are no classes on the weekends, and I take time off for holidays and if the weather is too bad or there’s too much work to be done. Or sometimes, if the weather is too nice to keep everyone inside, we just sort of spend time together and enjoy it, or we go learn about nature or something fun out of doors.”  
“Oh, yes. That reminds me. Your door is finished and will be here in a few days. Also, the priest has already offered to marry us.”  
I laughed, “That was quick.”  
“It certainly was.”  
“What did you say?”  
“I said you were dithering about your gown, or rather lack thereof.”  
“What?”  
“Don’t worry, a very nice old woman kindly offered to give you the one she wore when she got married. She even offered to tailor it for you since she knew you couldn’t sew. Actually, all the ladies seemed to be on board with getting everything in order for your wedding do-over. Flowers, food, music, sprucing up the town.” Artemis was enjoying this.  
“Oh, my.”  
“It will be a high-toned and fancy to-do if ever there was one. I even got scolded for not bringing a proper dress for you.”  
“Did you really?” I goggled at the notion.  
“Oh, yes, but they were more understanding when I explained that I’d brought the money to pay for one, but I didn’t want to buy a dress unless you approved it first.”  
“How sweet.”  
“I thought so.”  
“Then what happened?” I was morbidly fascinated with this whole exchange, trying to imagine Artemis being taken to task by some wizened old hen.  
“Well, I’m to buy the fabric and beads and lace and whatnot, and the ladies will make it themselves. You have to be surprised when they give it to you though. I wasn’t supposed to tell.”  
“I can do that,” I smiled.  
“I’m also supposed to get your measurements.”  
“Is it even possible to do that subtly?”  
“Good grief, no,” he snorted, “They expect me to do it anyway.”  
“Did they at least leave you a measuring tape or something?”  
“A string, which I’m to knot in a very specific way so they know which length is which measurement.”  
“All those lessons about standard units of measurement right down the drain.”  
“I’m sure they appreciate the idea.” I could tell he was placating me, but I didn’t mind.  
“Yeah, probably. How was your first day of class?”  
“You were there, don’t you already know?”  
“I know part of it, but I want to hear what you think.”  
“I felt more like a student than a teacher half of the time, but all in all, it wasn’t bad. The little ones were a bit rowdy for my taste, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it. The older ones were easier to talk to. Also, you always say you have no practical skills, but you know a lot about a lot of different things, and that’s practical in another way. I know for a fact that you can use that knowledge to deadly effect when you want. Like that crossbow you designed or the time with the claymores.”  
“Knowledge is power. In my world, the more you know, the more you can do, and knowledge builds on knowledge. I cultivated it there to keep me safe and to be successful. Here, knowledge is good, but it has to come with physical prowess as well or it won‘t get you much. Of course, money works in either world, but I don‘t really have much of it. I don‘t need it so much to get by here as I do at home though.”  
“Your monetary system is fucked up.”  
“Yeah, well, at least I don’t live in the dark ages.”  
“I don’t even know what that is, but I’m going to assume it was an insult.” He didn't sound insulted.  
“You would be correct.”  
“Wonderful.”  
I got up to start preparing dinner and Artemis joined me, cutting things up with a practiced hand.  
“What did you think of my first day of class?” he asked.  
“I thought you did very well, and the children liked you a lot. You didn’t scare any of them even when they got on your nerves, so thank you for that. I was thinking you might teach a weapons class during phy ed and foreign languages and a class about different cultures. What do you think of that?”  
“I’d be willing to give it a try.”  
“Oh, good. You can say no, if you don’t want to, just so you’re aware. I don’t want you to be miserable.”  
“Let’s give it a trial run and see how it goes.”  
“Okay.”  
We made the food in comfortable silence. It reminded me of our months on the road together. We settled back into our routines quickly. I didn’t let myself think too much about the fact that he and I were going to be married soon. I might get nervous or tense or just feel weird, and he was sure to notice. I thought about the house instead.  
The room I, or rather we, lived in was tiny. The bed was up along one wall, the chimney on the other. There was a small table and two spindly chairs in the middle of the room. In one corner, several wide planks formed the cellar door. A small bookshelf was the only other furniture, and it held my meager collection of books. My cooking things were hanging on the wall near the fireplace, my clothes on the wall near the bed. I hadn’t decorated at all. There was a small glassless window with shutters and rough curtains which was open to let in the dwindling light and fresh air.  
Even the school room wasn’t very big. There were several long narrow tables set up with stools. They could be pushed to the sides for when the smallest children were in class, at which time I pulled out the small stools for them to sit on, or if we needed the space for a more active lesson. I had a desk of my own at one end and a large slate attached to the wall. There were more shuttered windows and a larger chimney so I could warm the room if it was a particularly cold day. There were pegs for cloaks and hats along the walls, stacks of small slates for writing on, a large store of chalk, a shelf with musical instruments and art supplies, and a barrel with sports equipment. I had a few communal use books on the shelf as well. There was student art done on bark tacked up on the walls, and one section had a small mural painted on it. One of these days, I’d have to have a paper-making class and get some proper writing done. I could have the students write stories and make a class book or something. I considered my small domain and made plans for the future.


End file.
